Heir to the Sundered Crown (15 page)

Luxon watched her go, his chest feeling heavy as she went. Yepert clapped his friend on the shoulder.

“You’ll see her again Lux, I promise. We have a Knight of Niveren, a witch hunter, a Nightblade and two of the best mages in Caldaria, what could go wrong?” The chubby boy said reassuringly.

Ferran hauled himself into his saddle. “Mount up. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

He waved to one of the gate guards who pulled the heavy lever that opened the city gates. With a loud sound of grinding metal the heavy doors swung open to reveal the wider world beyond. The sun was high and bright in the sky and the sound of song birds filled the air.

“Least it doesn’t look like rain...” Luxon muttered as he mounted his pony and spurred it into a trot. The small band was finally on their way, the long Kings road and its perils awaiting them.

***

17.

Eclin Mountains

Woven ran as fast as he could through the deep snow of the mountain pass. His boots slipped and in places he sank knee deep, but still he wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t. Behind him came the snarls of werewolves, the moans of thousands of un-dead echoing down the valley and the ominous thunderous noise of thousands of armoured boots.

He had barely escaped Fuio, now several months later after that disaster he once again found himself fleeing the horrors that relentlessly advanced through the mountains. Numerous times the forces of Eclin had tried to halt the hoards advance and each time it had proven to be an unmitigated disaster. The rangers numbers had been decimated at the last battle, for three weeks the fort at Dendros had held, the thick walls and heavy defences had slowed the monsters for a time but once again magic had been their undoing.

“How much further?” gasped the young ranger at his side. The man was no older than twenty summers old his brown eyes were wide in fear.

“A few more miles,” Woven replied. Both men were close to exhaustion but they couldn’t risk halting, to make matters worse the sun was setting in the West. Soon the temperature would plummet. It may have been summer but in the high mountains of Eclin it was always cold.

The two rangers were heading towards the city of Eclin, the last barrier to the plains that led into the heart of Delfinnia itself.

“We’re all doomed aren’t we...”the lad said despairingly. Woven stayed silent; instead he grabbed the man’s shoulder and pushed him on to go faster. The wolves were drawing closer. He understood the man’s fear. After the barricades had broken at Fuio, the baron had turned tail and fled south towards his capital. Only the Knights of Niveren had prevented a total slaughter.

On their white stallions they had charged the enemy lines again and again, buying valuable time for the rangers and Eclin soldiers to flee. It had been they who had led the defence of the mountain passes; it was they that had bought the kingdom some time.

“I can’t go on sir” the ranger cried as he collapsed into the snow. His breathing was ragged and he was shivering violently. Woven knelt down and hauled the man up wrapping an arm about his shoulders.

“Leave me” the man protested. ‘I’ll slow you down and we will both die”

“Shut up Briden. I’ve lost too many brother rangers to this war already, I’m not losing another,” Woven growled. Briden was right though, they both would die unless they found somewhere to hide and rest. He looked around. The white snow-capped mountains went on for miles in either direction. A small forest was at the base of the mountain they found themselves on. He shut his eyes trying to remember the layout of the land.

“The sigil caves...” he muttered as he remembered something. He glanced to the west. A ridge dipped downwards into a narrow valley, at the end of which was a network of caves. He had never considered entering them in the past.

“No..those caves are cursed...” Briden stammered.

“It’s either we take our chances with an old wives tale or we get torn apart by werewolves. I for one would rather face the caves!” Woven snarled. He took a firmer grip on the ranger and made his way towards the valley.

As they reached a bluff he lowered Briden to the ground and shoved, the ranger slid down the icy slope with a startled cry. Woven followed suit. Snow and ice was kicked upwards as he went. To someone watching from the opposite side of the valley the two rangers appeared to be two boulders falling down the mountainside. Finally he skidded to halt next to the other ranger.

In the distance he could make out the three steeples known as the three kings. Standing tall and proud atop the peaks were statues of three of Delfinnia’s greatest Kings. Woven paused for a moment in thought. The three statues were used as landmarks by the rangers. From the peaks the city of Eclin was ten miles to the south. The villages of Rintir and Unos lay three miles to the north.

He swore under his breath.

They couldn’t head north, that way led the enemy, and the city was much too far to reach before nightfall. Once again he hauled Briden up from the snow and carried him. Carefully he made his way down the slippery mountainside until finally they reached the head of the narrow valley that led to the caves. The sun was beginning to set and the cold was creeping in. The sounds of the enemy grew louder. Woven picked up the pace. His stamina was waning as the rangers weight sapped at his strength.

“Over there,” Briden pointed to a dark hollow in the valley wall. The dark grey stones and rocks weren’t covered in as much snow as those found higher in the mountains. Woven staggered towards the caves mouth, collapsing in relief as they got inside.

*

Woven sat with his back against the caves wall. The warmth from the fire he had made restoring some vitality into his tired limbs. Upon entering the cave the rangers had headed as deep inside as they dared.

Briden had collapsed into a deep sleep as his exhaustion overwhelmed him. Woven however couldn’t rest. He camouflaged the caves entrance with stones and branches from a nearby dead tree. He took some sticks, and used them to start the fire.

The fire cast shadows on the caves wall and the flickering flames illuminated dozens of the mysterious sigils that gave the cave its name. He reached into his cloak and pulled out some of the bread from the knapsack on his belt. The dry coarse food tasted foul as always, but he savoured it nonetheless. Briden was snoring loudly, his rangers cloak wrapped tightly around himself to ward off the cold. Outside, the temperature was plummeting.

Woven paused his eating.

A feint greenish light was flickering deeper in the cave. Slowly he stood and drew his sword. Trepidation filled him. Had the enemy found them? Carefully he crept towards the light until he reached the caves rocky wall, the light was coming through a crack. He felt the wall for some sign of weakness. He knocked the wall with the hilt of his sword, leaping back as a hollow tone echoed around the cave. Briden shifted in his sleep with a snort.

The green light grew brighter.

“Magic...” Woven whispered as he realised what he was seeing. Whatever was on the other side of the wall was magical in origin. He placed his sword on the ground before looking around. He grunted in satisfaction as he found a large heavy rock. With all his might he smashed the rock against the hollow wall which shifted with a crack.

Briden leapt awake at the noise.

“What the? Woven...Sir?” the young ranger awoke with a start; clumsily he scrambled about for his sword. 

“Easy, I’ve found something,’ Woven explained, he pointed to another rock, “use that and help me get this wall down.”

Briden got to his feet, picked up the rock and joined his superior at smashing down the hollow wall. A half hour later and the two men had made an opening wide enough for a man to fit through. Both men were covered with sweat thanks to their exertions. Briden was gasping and collapsed back down onto the floor.

“Stay here and get some rest, I’m going to check it out,” Woven ordered.

He pulled a number of arrows from his quiver and bound them together with spare cord for his bow. With the knife on his belt he carefully removed the valuable bodkin arrow heads and removed the goose feathers. He took his hastily made torch putting it into the fire until it ignited. 

Carefully he squeezed through the hole they had created, the eerie green light growing brighter. He gasped in awe at the source of the light.

Adorning the walls of the hidden chamber were sigils far larger and ornate than those found in the main cave. One was glowing brightly; to Woven it looked to be in the shape of a sword. An ancient language was scrawled on a stone tablet at its base.

He knelt down and looked at it; the symbols looked familiar but were so faded that they were near impossible to read.

“Looks like ancient Nivionian...” he muttered. In his years as a ranger he had spent a number of nights inside the ancient ruins of the Nivion Empire that dotted the wild lands of Delfinnia. Most folk avoided them, fearing that they were haunted by the souls of the dead. Woven knew better. Many were occupied by nefarious thieves on the lamb, Pucks or other fell beasts of the void.

As he picked up the tablet, the light from the sigil faded plunging the chamber into darkness. Only the light from his torch giving him light enough to see.

He tucked the tablet inside his cloak and exited the chamber. Whatever he had found was important. He could feel it in his bones.

***

18.

The King’s Road

They hadn’t been on the road for long before they encountered their first taste of the war.

The group had only been on the King’s road for an hour, and had covered barely ten miles when they came across the bodies. Kaiden and Ferran rode ahead whilst Sophia stayed to defend the others.

“What is it?” Yepert asked as he happily munched on an apple he had plucked from one of the many apple trees which lined the road. After leaving Caldaria they had made their way through the farmlands and small villages that provided the mage city with food and other goods. Upon seeing the riders the farmers had ran into their homes. Anyone on a horse was a potential threat in these dark times.

“It seems the war is not as far away from Caldaria as we thought,” Sophia replied grimly. Her horse whinnied and stamped at the cracked surface of the road. Luxon trotted his pony alongside the witch hunter.

“Could it be the baron?” he asked worriedly. He wouldn’t put it past the spiteful ruler of Retbit to not lay in ambush after what had transpired previously.

“No. That pig is probably already in his castle with his tail tucked firmly between his legs, He’s a coward and a wretch,” Alira spat as she joined the conversation, her blue eyes were fierce and filled with hate at her former jailor. Her white pony was busy munching on the grass that grew through the roads cracked surface.

Luxon thought back to the last time he been on the road with his mother. It had been the day after his father had been dragged off and executed by the bickering barons in Sunguard. His mother had smuggled them out of the capital the same day. They had travelled for over a week up the Kings road to Caldaria and safety.

He shut his eyes as remembered the pain he had felt as his mother had left him at the city gates with nothing but the clothes on his back before kissing him on the cheek and saying her goodbyes. To this day he did not understand why she had left him or where she had gone. One thing he did know was that back before the war had begun not a single weed nor blade of grass had grown on the kingdoms highways, the King’s legion had taken meticulous care of that..

Kaiden galloped back to the group.

“It appears as though the baron’s men may have done us a favour when they fled back south. There’s an entire bandit camp burnt to ashes further ahead.’ The knight glanced at Alira and the boys. ‘It’s not a pretty sight however. Lots of blood, lots of bodies.” He warned.

Yepert stopped eating his face going pale. Luxon trotted over to his friend and patted him on the back.

“Just shut your eyes. Here,’ he said taking a cord of rope from the pack attached to his saddle and gave it to Yepert. ‘Hold this and I’ll lead you through ok?”

Yepert nodded.

Together they spurred their mounts forward until they crested a small ridge to a scene of utter devastation. Hanging from some of the trees lining the road were bodies. Flies buzzed angrily over the corpses of bandits which lay naked in the summer sun. Several had spear wounds, others showed signs of sword or mace blows. Standing grim faced in the centre of the carnage was Ferran. The Nightblade paced the clearing and knelt over one of the bodies. The corpse of the man he was checking neither wore armour of a solider nor bore the marks of a bandit. His eyes were missing and a brutal tear had almost split him from neck to thigh bone.

“No man did this,” he muttered. “These bandits were slain and this poor wretch must have come along later to scavenge their weapons and armour. He met with something he did not expect...”

“What’s the matter?” Kaiden asked his hand dropping instinctively to his sword.

Sophia unslung her bow and gazed at the tree line.

“The Great wood goes on for hundreds of miles. There could be anything lurking within its dark interior. With no Nightblades or legion patrols beasts of the void are certain to get loose and prey on the unwary,” she said as she dismounted gracefully. She walked over to the body Ferran was studying. She pointed to the ground. ‘Here. There are tracks in the dirt. Something crawled out of the forest all right, something big.”

Luxon looked around; trying his best not to heave at the sight of death, worse than the blood was the smell. He told Yepert to hold his nose and keep his eyes closed.

“I suggest we keep moving. This part of the road is not safe. There is a rune stone a few more miles ahead. We will camp there.” Ferran said before standing and mounting his horse.