The Rawn Chronicles Book One: The Orrinn and the Blacksword: Unabridged (The Rawn Chronicles Series 1) (15 page)

As he dried himself off with a blanket, his attention drew to an opening by the pool. It was a manmade arch, but it had collapsed long ago.

“What is that?”

“Ahh... wondered if you noticed that,” said Lord Ness. “It’s called the Lovers Arch. Your great grandfather, Valient the Third, had an illicit affair with a girl from a local village not far from here, so he built a tunnel from somewhere in the palace to here so he could visit her in secret.”

Havoc’s heart leapt. “Master, if there is a route to the palace, we can...”

“No, unfortunately not; you see Valient’s father found out about the lovers and collapsed the tunnel; it will probably be under water by now.”

Havoc looked and, sure enough, the entrance was blocked. “What happened to his lover?” he asked.

“Oh... when the king died, she became your great-grandmother.”

“What, she was a commoner, no?” he asked in surprise.

“Yes, but from a noble house. Her father was chief, but they were poor.”

“We can’t marry beneath us, can we?” Havoc looked sadly at Lord Ness.

“Not now; the Royal Tables state that you cannot... You are thinking of Eleana, are you not?”

“You have been reading my mind,” cried Havoc in amazement.

“I’m not a fool, young prince. I can see the look you give each other. You do not get to my age and have to rely on guess work.” He looked at his student sternly.

“Sorry, I…”

“It is quite all right.” He sighed. “For what it’s worth, My Lord, I do care for your feelings, in more ways than one, now.” He stood up from the bank and picked up his sword-staff. “I hope you have not scared all the fish away, because I’m hungry.”

Chapter 10

An Unkindness of Ravens

History recorded the incident as the Red Roasting.

Of all the stories that were brought down to us from the second civil war, no matter the stories of tragedy or valour, the Red Roasting was one of the most famous.

It had started as the brainchild of General Plysov, who wanted to find a stronghold for a larger contingent of soldiers in the Sky Mountains. His aim was to slowly push the Roguns into one corner of the mountains so he could strike hard and destroy them all at the same time. To accomplish this, he had to have a base that could be easily defended and the manpower to pull it off.

On the first month of winter, when the mountain passes closed due to snow and ice, he sent a huge force under his most able commander, Captain Leask, to march his way to the Rouge.

The many Rogun scouts, who by this time had eyes everywhere, saw them enter the eastern passes.

Captain Leask and his army moved cautiously through the many valleys, sometimes finding other routes, as most were impassable. No exiles assailed them, but hidden Rogun scouts watched them and the captain knew it. He factored this knowledge into his route so he never went into an area that was vulnerable to ambush, and he put a good portion of his men on guard at night. The nights were the most dangerous time for his host in this hostile land. It took them three weeks to get to the Rouge. They occupied it without resistance from the villagers and built up its defences, then settled down for the winter.

The Rouge, or the Red Castle, was the main seat of the Red Duke. It was a large square stone keep surrounded by a high, wooden palisade. The village, which sat in its shadow, housed one hundred families. The Red Duke’s factor, a hardy old mountain man by the name of Azzen, left the Rouge in the dead of night and sought out Lord Rett.

He travelled over high peeks so he could shortcut to his destination and miss out the closed passes. By the time he had arrived at the Rogun camp, he was exhausted, and close to the dead sleep of the cold, but he insisted on speaking to his master and told Lord Rett all he knew about the Vallkyte force that occupied the Rouge and their defences.

Intelligence reports from his factor received with grateful thanks. However, the Red Duke was already aware of Captain Leask’s violation of his home and he had made plans accordingly. He had personally asked the king for men to go and evict the invaders and make an example of anybody who would be gullible enough to cross the Red Duke. The king was very drunk with ale, but he gave his authority with a grunt.

Lord Rett asked volunteers to join him on a very dangerous mission; he would leave in the morning with them. His factor insisted on coming with his lord as his guide on the route he had used to find the camp; he assured his master he remained fit and well to accompany him. The Red Duke reluctantly agreed, and they gathered together weapons and provisions for the journey.

In the morning, Lord Rett exited his tent to wash topless in the snow. To his surprise, two hundred and fifty volunteers had assembled by his tent; all were armed and standing in formations. Fresh snow had covered their steel helmets and capes. They had been standing in wait for him for some time.

They were the Prince’s Legion. Lord Rett was overwhelmed. He thanked Havoc and Magnus, who stood in front of the ranks of soldiers.

“I was only expecting fifty men,” he said to them.

“The more the merrier,” said Magnus.

He clasped both of their arms in a warrior’s handshake and smiled proudly.

“This is your mission, master; you may take command,” said Havoc, holding up his hand to stop the protests from the Red Duke. “Just answer me one thing in return. Is this mission fraught with danger with a chance to kill or maim many Vallkytes?”

Lord Rett thought for a moment, and then smiled. “Of course,” he said.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

As Sir Colby prepared to march the columns of men out of the camp, Eleana appeared, kitted for battle. Magnus was angry and forbade her to go.

“I’m no servant anymore,” she snapped at him. “Who is going to look after you lot? I can dress wounds and cook. I can fight just as well as any man.”

This got a ripple of laughter from the legion.

“You will stay here where I know you’re safe,” shouted Magnus. “You
know
why.”

She did not argue any further, but did not move. Magnus turned on his heels and ran after Lord Rett and the legion. Havoc noticed tears in Eleana’s eyes.

“Do not do this because of me!” he said.

“Please be safe,” she said. “I need both of you; come back to me.”

Havoc put his hand on her cheek and she closed her eyes at his touch.

“I will watch over him. And my heart will always be here with you.” He kissed her and left.

Two hundred and fifty men trudging through deep snow and over high peeks was slow going, but these men were hardy and used to the winter extremes. They marched hard and rested often, ate well and slept in turns while other guarded. Havoc and Magnus also took their stint on guard and took the same physical punishment as the marching soldiers without complaint. This endeared them to the legionnaires’ hearts.

Clear blue sky, clashing with the white peeks at the horizon, told of the cold and arid terrain they trudged through in a long twisting formation through the many passes. Scything blizzards chilled their lungs and their furs glistened with ice crystals.

On the fifth day, they reached the Silit Lake, now frozen over. The legion walked over it in small groups as night fell. They rested on the other side and, in the morning, they pushed on the last few miles to the Rouge through a long, narrow valley.

“Eleana is only concerned about you, that is all I’m saying,” said Havoc to Magnus as they trudged up the valley.

His brother was still in a foul mood and had not spoken much to anyone.

“She’s just stubborn. These days, she just shouts at me for no good reason, then she’s all over me; she needs to be careful and watch what she is doing.”

This last bit confused Havoc. “Why is that?” he asked.

Magnus stopped and sighed; to Havoc, he looked sad and lonely.

“She thinks she is with child.”

“Oh... congratulations... That’s good, isn’t it?” Havoc felt happy and sad at the same time; he tried to control his feelings and told himself that Eleana and he were not meant to be together.

“Suppose so,” said an unsure Magnus.

The Rouge and its nearby village seemed to be the only signs of civilisation for miles as it sat on a wide white canvas of snow and trees. Life was going on as normal; people walked to and fro carrying out their daily chores and the black smoke that seeped out of the smithy roof was whipped away by the cold breeze. Sounds of hammering came from within.

Guards walked the wooden palisade and horsemen rode out every so often, probably to fetch supplies or patrol the mountain passes. The keep itself was quiet. Ice on its red sandstone walls gave off a watery sheen in the early evening sun.

“Pretty little scene,” said Magnus as he, Havoc, Sir Colby, the Red Duke and his factor hid in the tree line on a high ridge that overlooked the keep.

Sir Colby pulled back the low pine branches to get a better view. “So just three guards on the palisade at all times?” Sir Colby asked Azzen.

“That’s right, sir, but there are two at the gate also; however, not at night when the gate is locked.” Azzen was shivering under his furs; he had not fully recovered from the outgoing trip and the return had taken a lot out of him. Lord Rett was concerned for the old man.

“When it gets dark, Azzen, I want you to go to your sons, Palo and Morin, and get them to rouse the village,” ordered the duke. “I want every able-bodied man to rush the gates on my signal.” He was not that bothered about the extra help, only getting Azzen into the warmth.

“Yes, master.”

“What’s the plan?” asked Havoc.

“I, you, and Magnus will take out the three guards on the palisade and then open the gate. The legion and the villagers will storm in and help us kill every last one of the bastards.” The Red Duke grinned.

“Sounds like a plan with no drawbacks,” said Havoc.

“Explain to me again, how we three are going to get in and kill the guards?” asked a concerned Magnus.

“We are going to jump the walls,” Lord Rett said, as if the answer was obvious.

They had walked back to the men of the legion who were camped a couple of miles west of the Rouge hidden in trees at the foot of a mountain near to the head of the valley.

“You look worried,” said Lord Rett to Magnus.

“The walls just look high, that’s all.”

“I have seen you jump higher when you use the wind element.”

He mumbled something unintelligible, but Havoc heard Eleana’s name mentioned.

“What about Eleana?” Lord Rett asked Magnus.

“She just wants me home safe, that’s all.”

“Is she afraid you will catch your balls on the palisade or something?” Lord Rett laughed. “Has she not taught you how to use them, then?”

Sir Colby chuckled and Havoc smiled.

“Bit late for that,” said Havoc under his breath.

“Eh?” asked the Red Duke, and Magnus gave Havoc a scowl.

“Tell him; he deserves to know, anyway,” said Havoc.

“Tell me what?”

Lord Rett and Sir Colby were looking at both Havoc and Magnus with bewilderment.

Magnus realised Havoc was right, and he could not keep anything secret from his uncle for long anyway; besides, in a few months’ time, the whole camp would know.

“You’re a great uncle,” he said with a sigh.

“I know I’m a great uncle.” Lord Rett shrugged, but Sir Colby understood at once and beamed.

He leant over to the duke and whispered in his ear.

“What?” He looked astonished. “Does Eleana know?”

“It
is
Eleana.”

Magnus looked hurt and Havoc laughed. Sir Colby hugged Magnus and congratulated him; so, too, did Lord Rett, who turned to Havoc.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing; you’re an uncle now, so you can protect the child. I’ve got my hands full with this one,” he said, pointing to Magnus.

The factor had done his job well as night fell; as soon as the villagers heard that the Red Duke was here with the legion, they took up arms immediately and waited for their lord’s signal. The legion waited in the tree line as the cold night deepened; torch braziers on the Rouge wall was the only light around and it cast long shadows onto the village.

Two off duty Vallkyte soldiers walked out off the village tavern arm in arm and staggered up the street towards the Rouge. They were singing a song about the Red Duke that the villagers always sung at closing time, but they did not get the words right.

“Goodnight, goodnight hushes to keep

Sleep do not flee

Hush now do not weep

Least the Red Duke gets thee.”

A black shadow disengaged from the tavern wall and stood in front of the two drunks; they were too far gone to notice he had a sword.

“The Red Duke is already here,” he said, and Selnour swung. “And it’s ‘wishes to keep’, you idiots.”

Their blood stained the snow.

Havoc and Magnus were in position when Lord Rett joined them. They followed the guards as they walked around the palisade, using the shadows to hide them on the ground, but kept their master in sight. The trick was for all three to go at the same time. Then the Red Duke judged the correct moment to attack, and gave them both a nod.

Havoc ran at the high wall, and, at the same time, summoned the wind element. It lifted him off the ground and shot him up just to the height of the sharp wooden stakes of the palisade. However, he misjudged where the guard was walking to, so he called up another strong gale to hit his left side, and it pushed him to his right in line with the daydreaming sentry. He landed in front of him. The guard opened his mouth in astonishment, but could not call out because Havoc had slashed his throat with Tragenn.