by Luna Lais
He also noticed there where other things that had remained the same; the fire pits still burned high above on each turret, lighting the banners bearing his family's crest. The banner's where made of a bright blue material and the family crest of the dark moon pierced by three jeweled daggers was displayed proudly. He smiled he was home and his family was here as well. The banner's had proved it. Ronans still ruled Calandoria.
When he reached the door, he slowly placed his hand on the outside and pushed the door open just as the first light of dawn entered the sky. The grand entrance hall was empty, but the lamps had been lit. No one was there to greet him as he thought there would be. Makren looked to the far end of the hall, there a wide staircase leading to the family rooms on the second level, stood empty. Two guards were stationed at the top of the stairs standing in perfect attention. Makren remembered that behind the stairs there was a large arched entrance. It led to the throne room where his father held court. The hall still looked as he remembered. The marble floor was still polished so you could see your reflection. The red velvet chairs where petitioners waited still lined the hall. Down both sides of the hall portraits of every Raven King that had ruled Calandoria were hung.
Makren began walking down the hall studying the faces of his ancestors. He tried not to feel upset that none of his family had come to see if it was really him, alive and safe. Not ready to retire to his old room, he continued to study the paintings. Now that he was home he wanted memorize everything he could see. It felt like he was in a dream and at any moment it would all vanish.
As he reached the last portrait Makren stopped and bowed his head. Surely he had not been gone so long. Before him on the wall next to his own father's portrait hung a painting of his brother Jimreth. Only a king could be placed on this wall. If Jimreth's portrait was there then his father must be dead. Makren had not been prepared for this. He was flooded with grief so strong he had trouble standing. While still trying to come to terms with the news of his father's death Makren heard the echo of footsteps running down the hall and his name being called.
"Makren," a female cried. "Thank the Gods Makren" she said when she saw him.
He turned to look up the stairs at her. Dress only in her nightgown and robe his sister Rachel stood on the landing looking down at him. As soon as the dim lights of the hall caught his eyes, Rachel's composure crumbled. She raced down the stairs into his open arms.
"Makren" Rachel sobbed. "You were thought dead, but I knew, I knew you would find your way back to me." She hugged him fiercely and planted kisses all over his face. Makren held on to her as tight as he could, afraid the minute he let go she would be gone and he would be back in the Realm of the Sun. His sister was here welcoming him home just as he had imagined.
After a few moments, Makren sat Rachel away from him so he could look at her. His sister had grown pretty, no more freckles or braids. She had soft gray eyes, long straight black hair that flowed to her waist and chiseled features that resembled his. It had been twelve years since he saw her last both of them still children at the time.
"Makren," Rachel looked into his eyes questioningly. She did not like the hardness she saw there. "What happened to you?" Rachel rubbed her small hand down his cheek reaffirming he was actually standing before her.
"There will be time to discuss it later, for now just let me look at you. I have missed you so much." Makren's features softened as he stared at her. Of all his siblings he had been closest to her, his twin. They had spent hours as children racing up and down these very steps, along with their best friend Moran. He would like to see Moran again.
"No Makren there will not be time for it later," Rachel's brow wrinkled in worry. She broke free of Makren and began pacing in front of the steps. "Things are not well here. I ride within the hour to seek Darien and bring him home at last."
"At last?" Makren questioned. "Where is he and where are Jimreth and Lissandra?"
"Much has happened since you left." Rachel whispered trying to force back tears. "Lissandra entered the Order of Colondone several years ago. We have had no word from her in several weeks. Darien I pray is in the South. He too left many years ago, just a few months before Lissandra. He sent us word not to long ago that he would be home before harvest, but harvest is still to far away, I need him now." Tears slowly begin falling down her cheeks.
"And what of Jimreth" Makren asked wondering if he had also left the castle.
"Jimreth married six years ago, shortly before father passed." Rachel saw pain in his eyes as she confirmed what he already knew. His father was dead. "He loved his wife deeply. For years it appeared Maureen would be barren, but Jimreth did not care, he loved her." Rachel paused to take a moment for herself. Why did the burden of telling Makren of their families pain fall to her, when she already had so much to bear?
"Rachel, I appreciate hearing of what has happened since my absence, but what has any of this to do with my question about Jimreth or your leaving?" He addressed her as if talking to a small child. Rachel was use to being talk to in such a manner; it is what happens when you are the youngest of so many children, even if you are only a few minutes younger than one. She stood straight and faced her brother, gathering what little courage she could. She dried her eyes with the sleeve of her robe and met her brother's eyes. She looked regal Makren thought, like the princess that she was.
"Maureen finally conceived last winter. Happiness poured through the entire kingdom." Rachel got a faraway look and smiled. She could still remember the giddiness that had infected them all. How could such sorrow be born of such hope? "Two weeks ago, Maureen's time came. Jimreth was so nervous he could not sit down for more than a few minutes. Being unmarried I was not allowed in the birthing room so I can not tell you what happened." A single tear rolled down her cheek. Makren walked to her and gently rubbed it away with his thumb. "All I can tell you is by night fall both Maureen and the babe were lost to us. Jimreth was so stricken with grief he ordered the healers and attendants executed." Rachel took a deep breath in an attempt to quell the threatening tears. "Jimreth locked himself in his chambers after that and has not come out, not even for the burial." Makren pulled Rachel into his arms and held her. This was not the homecoming he had been expecting. "I must find Darien and bring him home before we loose Jimreth as well," Rachel said into his chest. "He has not taken any of the trays left at his door and after what happened to the healers and attendants no one will break down the door and risk incurring his wrath."
"Take me to Jimreth" Makren said. "Let me see what I can do." He turned her towards the stairs and took her hand. Together they walk towards the royal chamber.
"Jimreth, I have unbelievable, wonderful news for you!" Rachel said as she knocked on the chamber door of her brother Jimreth. "Jimreth, please let me in. I need you. I loved her too." She whispered through the door no longer able to hide her tears.
"Move away from the door, Rachel." Rachel turned to look at Makren, the hard look had returned to his eyes. "Now!" Rachel quickly backed away from the door at his harsh warning. The servants of the castle may fear retribution, but Makren was family.
He took a moment to gather his strength and then plowed his shoulder into the door. It took three strong hits before the door gave way sending wood splinters flying through the air.
He paused momentarily at the entrance of the chamber and rubbed his shoulder. Rachel rushed past him calling for Jimreth. The chamber was dark and Makren detected a faint odor coming from within. All the curtains within the room were drawn blocking out the early morning light.
Makren walked towards the windows and began pulling the curtains aside flooding the room with light. Both Makren and Rachel paused in shock now that they had light to see by. Clothes male and female were scattered across the floor. Priceless vases or the remains of them had been shattered across the stone floor. Furniture was overturned and broken. All the chest and wardrobes in the room had been open and the contents strung through out the room. The paintings had bee
n pulled off the wall and torn to shreds. In the middle of the far wall stood a large oak bed with curtains pulled around concealing what lay inside. Rachel had stopped calling for Jimreth when Makren opened the curtains. She stood facing the room with her back to the bed in utter shock. "Why would he do this?" Rachel said kneeling to pick up one of the painting that had been torn before being carelessly tossed on the floor.
"He was upset Rachel and his grief needed and outlet," Makren said with a little grief in his voice, but more anger.
"No, Makren," Rachel replied growing angry herself, "He might rage and destroy a vase, that I will believe, but he would not destroy her painting, her clothes or anything else she owned. He loved her too much. He would keep her things to remember her by." Rachel lowered her eyes at the remnants of the painting in her hand. "You knew Jimreth, his heart has not changed in all these years." She lifted her eyes and looked around the room again. "He would blame himself, not her for what happened."
Makren considered her words. He tried to remember his brother, but the memories of an ten-year-old boy were not mature enough to judge the character of his much older brother. Makren would rely on Rachel's judgment in this matter. Still staring at the bed Makren moved forward to stand in front of Rachel.
"Wait for me in the hall, Rachel." Rachel looked at him and started to protest, but Makren cut her off, "Rachel, wait for me in the hall." The authority in which he commanded scared her. The Makren she remembered was playful and easy going, not cold and hard. She moved around Makren and left the room. He waited until he heard her footsteps stop just outside the door before moving the rest of the way to the bed.
When Makren reached the front of the bed he pulled the curtains aside. His brother lay in the middle of the bed with his own dagger sticking out of his chest. His brown eyes were staring upward towards Makren. In his hand he clutched a small miniature of a woman. Makren had never seen the woman in the small picture before. He could only assume that it was his dead wife Maureen.
Makren turned and left the room, meeting Rachel in the hall. "Come sister we have much to discuss." He took her by the hand and pulled her towards a sitting room and away from the horror that lay within the royal chamber.
Chapter 7
Eranen stirred at the first faint sounds of steps coming from outside the barn. It had taken him a few moments to remember he was in his barn rather than the dugout he had built just inside the woods that bordered his fields. He had only meant to give Darien the impression that he too would be sleeping in the barn. He had meant to lie down on the small cot in one of the stalls until Darien was asleep, then he had planned on moving to the safety of the dugout. It was not that Eranen did not trust Darien. He trusted him more than most men. Eranen's instincts told him Darien was not here to cause harm and his instincts where never wrong. Of course, if Darien's acumen spoke the truth the Gods had sent Darien here to save his life. Eranen could now hear muffled whispers coming from outside the door of the barn. If those whispers belong to whom he thought was outside, Darien just might have his chance.
Eranen had fought with Darien in several battles to secure Maeorus of Pearoandorn throne, however they had never met before yesterday. It was not a surprise to Eranen they had never met. Eranen had been a foot soldier in Maeorus's war and Darien no doubt was second in command or a position at least as an equal. When a prince of a neighboring kingdom lends his aid to a would be king, he was not ask to be a foot soldier.
Darien had not told Eranen who he was; he did not need to. The house of Raven was recognized all over the world. Darien however was not what Eranen had expected in a prince. Darien seemed humble and had an easy manner to him. He was just as comfortable sleeping in a barn as a castle. Eranen had assumed royalty to be snobbish and have an air of self-importance about them. Of course Darien was the first prince Eranen had ever met, or likely ever would so he had none compare him to. Princes in general did not hobnob with peasants.
Darien had been awake for the last five minutes listening to the noise outside. Five maybe six men if he if he were guessing. It appeared prophecy might once again be fulfilled. Darien hoped so, if he could fulfill this prophecy not only would the life of a young boy be spared, but Eranen's life would be saved as well.
Darien had truly liked Eranen. They shared a war and all though he had not met him previously they had fought in many of the same battles in aid of Maeorus.
Eranen was also one of the most intelligent men, peasant or noble that Darien had ever met. What had impressed Darien the most was that his knowledge was completely self taught. During their conversation the night before, he had educated Darien on all manner of topics. It seemed his knowledge knew no bounds. His understanding of the Acumen as well as the Moon Arts and Sun Arts was just as impressive as his knowledge of the weather and crop rotations, even though Eranen possessed no talent for any of the Arts. Darien thought the man must know more about them than even those who were gifted with such talents.
Darien heard a creak from the barn door; someone was testing the latch. Darien was not concerned about whoever was on the other side of the door. He and Eranen could more than likely handle the five or six men he thought to be outside; based on the noises he had heard. The element of surprise was on their side as well. Whoever they were, they did not know Darien was inside with Eranen.
Eranen wondered if Darien had awakened yet. Being a seasoned warrior no doubt Darien had come awake with the first foot falls just as Eranen had. If the men waiting to kill him outside were testing the latches on the door it would only be a matter of moments before they came crashing through. Even as Eranen thought it the crashing sound of splintering wood was heard as the barn door gave in with a mighty push from the outside. Eranen was instantly on his feet with weapon in hand and vaulted himself over the door of the stall where he had been sleeping moments ago. His would be assassins would find him facing them head on rather than befuddled with sleep as they had hoped.
Six large blond men dressed in black leather with an orange sun on their chest bounded through the door at once. They only paused in surprise a second at finding Eranen facing them, prepared for the attack rather than scrambling from bed in search of his sword. That moment cost one man his life. Eranen had pulled a dagger from his boot and sent it sailing through the air into the throat of one of the men. Blood splattered his comrades in arms as the man sank to the ground.
Darien was perched in the loft above waiting for the right time to act. Darien was impressed with the accuracy of Eranen's dagger. As the remaining men rushed forward towards Eranen, Darien dropped from his hiding place behind them.
"Eranen, you did not tell me you were expecting company." Darien shouted startling the men in black and causing two of them to turn and face Darien with swords raised.
"I was rather hoping the Gods would be wrong this time." Eranen replied. "I would greatly appreciate your assistance if you are willing?"
"Since our destinies have brought us to this point and these fellows have turned their blades towards me," Darien said pointing his sword at the two men in front of him, "It looks as if I have no choice." Darien laughed. "Let's be quick about this so I can return to bed, it is still too early to be about."
Eranen immediately kicked backed one of his three attackers and began engaging the other two. The man he had kicked fell into one of the men that turned to face Darien pushing the man forward unexpectedly and right into Darien's sword. With only, one man left facing him Darien spared a glance at Eranen.
Eranen truly was a master of the blade. He was easily battling his two attackers and had not even broken a sweat.
Darien returned his attention to the other man facing him. This man was skilled, but Darien was more so. He easily dodged the on coming thrust and swings of his opponent. It only took a few moments before the man let his defenses slip. Darien took advantage of this mistake and plunged his sword through the man's neck. With both of his assailants dead on the floor Darien rushed to aid Eranen, but to Darien su
rprise Eranen was sitting in one of the stuffed chairs with three dead men lying at his feet.
"Well at least they will not be bothering me again." Eranen smiled. "This is the fourth time this month they have visited me. The other times at the first draw of blood they ran like cowards, I wondered why this time was different."
"I am going to go check their horses," Darien said. "Check the bodies and see if you can discover where these men came from. I have never seen this mark of the sun before."
Eranen rose and began searching the bodies as Darien headed out of the barn to search the bags on the horses. Darien only took two steps looked at the horses and rushed back into the barn.
Eranen was crouch over the body of one of the attackers. Behind him stood a seventh man with his sword raised over his head. In seconds the blade would fall killing Eranen.
Without pausing to think Darien threw his sword at the man. At the same time Eranen retrieved his dagger from the body he had been searching and quickly rolled to the side and plunged the weapon into the belly of the seventh man. The sword thrown by Darien hit the man in the chest just as Eranen's dagger plunged into his belly. The man stumbled back before collapsing to the floor where his comrades were already laying dead.