The Sword and The Raven, Part One

By Anton Brzezinski

Rated adult for violence and some adult content, the story by noted science fiction artist Anton Brzezinski focuses on well developed characters on a richly detailed fantasy world. The popular first book in The Archanean Diary series, is now available in two parts. The exciting Epic Adventure taking place on the planet of Sarnhia, around the iron walled city of Archanea, concerns the adventures and misadventures of a brother and sister who are fated to be involved with witchcraft and sorcery and are more than they believe they are.
It's a world where wars are still fought with swords, the Elvin race of the Fae have superior technology, and giant monsters threaten both.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anton Brzezinski
• Release date: Jan 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310360640

Anton Brzezinski

A former Actor. Hollywood artist and long time fan of fantasy and horror, Anton Brzezinski is best known for his retro Science fiction covers and horror short stories. He has written and published several books, and currently is devoting all his time to a series of Epic Fantasy novels.

Book preview

The Sword and the Raven Part One

T

hese are the pages from the

Archanean Diary, an ancient book

rumored to hold knowledge of all

that has or will happen on the world

of Sarnhia on the continent of Mihr.

-

All dates in the New Era begin with

the Night of the Star, a celestial event.

Dates after that are appended N.S.

Dedicated to the sword and sorcery fans

who will explore the world I created for them.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

About the Author

Other Books in the Series

Dictionary of Unusual words

The Sword

And the Raven

From the Archanean Diary Series

Part One

by Anton Brzezinski

Copyright Anthony E. Brzezinski 2016

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimers and Notes

This is a work of fiction. Archanea is an imaginary city on the continent of Mihr on the world of Sarnhia. Resemblance to anyone or any families that exist now or ever have existed in the real word is purely coincidental. Resemblance to characters or locations from other authors stories is not intended, and purely coincidental.

Any spells or remedies described are entirely fictional. No responsibility is assumed by the author, publisher or distributors as to their accuracy. Any attempt to perform magical spells or created potions described in these stories is highly discouraged. Some of the necessary materials don't even exist on Earth.

Images including the cover are created by the author from photos purchased from Pond5.

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This edition created 1/23/2016

1

The Drifters

9th of Archon 1032 N.S

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Rhuna wondered how her husband talked her into this. Following him into a tunnel under Archanea. Drifters shouldn't be sneaking into the city. Her people kept to the forest, as they were meant to. The forest-dwellers were banished from the city since King Rothorn declared their spirituality anathema. Still Garn had it in his noggin that this meeting was for the best. Her husband was as excited as a sack of squirrels. She was convinced they were headed for trouble.

The mysterious man in a robe, a tall bearded city-kyne, was leading them with a torch through a narrow dirt tunnel. The sides were so close that several times roots had snagged her scarf or sweater. Rhuna wanted to turn back. She was a Drifter, not a burrower.

The stranger took them deeper into the tunnel. When they were finally through the narrow part, they weren't in the city yet but at least they were standing in a bricked hallway. The walls curving inwards formed an arch over their heads, suggesting they supported a great weight. Since the dirt tunnel had sloped down, the bricked passage was under Archanea. Rhuna found the thought of stone buildings on top of her unsettling.

Here, take it. The tall stranger handed the torch to Garn. Wait here. The bearded man was younger and at least a foot taller than her husband. If city-kyne were all as tall as the stranger everyone in Archanea would know they didn't belong.

The man left them and continued into the dark further reaches of the hall. Does he see in the dark? Rhuna wondered. When he disappeared into the distant gloom they saw a small light flare up. It wasn't fire. It was too white for that. Rhuna touched the stone dangling at her neck, warding off magic. The mysterious light grew smaller and was soon too far away to be seen. By the flickering light of the torch Garn held, Rhuna saw they were flanked by very old bricks. Realizing their age made her worry the ceiling might collapse on them.

They didn't have much use for brick in the forest. Drifters lived in wagons and made their ovens of whatever stones they found when they moved around.

They camped in the mid-forest in summer when the berries were ripe, leaving before the rains came and the mid-forest became a bog. Winters they took their wagons to the north and staked them down just shy of the Shadow woods. Camping that close to spirits unnerved her, but the northern campsite was warm and dry even in the cold months of Snift and Galis, and the sea-coast slavers feared to venture there.

At any rate with stones abundant in the forest they didn't carry bricks around. Bricks looked square and unnatural to her. These were clammy and had a dank odor. It was cold in these depths. They were in a place they shouldn't be, and she was frightened. It all felt very wrong. Both she and her husband were over forty. Too old for reckless adventures.

Garn stood close to the wall. His clothes gave away that he was a Drifter. Standing there in striped pants … feet stuck into red boots he'd made, a bright green vest and a purple shirt. She'd dyed the homespun herself from dizzy clover. You couldn't walk barefoot in the mid-forest without staining the soles of your feet with it, but you only made the mistake of eating it once. All their dyes came from plants and they knew plants well. Drifters were a colorfully dressed people.

Her husband had taken a nail from his pocket and was scratching his name on one of the bricks. He was proud of being able to do so. G-A-R-N. She didn't even know how to sign her name in those letters, but both of them had learned Commonspeak years ago, so he could sell city-kyne the belts he made, and she the cosmetics and perfumes she made from flowers.

One of Garn's arguments. If they had a shop in Archanea, how much money they could make. Now they could only sell things at the weekend market held in the field outside the city gate. The market wasn't regular so neither was the income.

When he had finished defacing the brick he turned to her proudly. Look Rhuna.

Do you want a prize? Rhuna didn't feel like coddling him.

I'll need to sign my name to pay taxes, Garn reminded her. It wasn't hard to guess she still needed persuading. He promised us a right proper shop in the city and gold to get us started.

If he offered you a magic cow would you buy it? Rhuna scolded. She was beyond feeling sorry. She sounded harsh. Surely he understood why she had her doubts. Garn was a good husband, didn't drink or have a temper. He let a stranger, a man from the city no less, talk him into this. The thought of it! Planning to live where Drifters were considered lower than lice. Drifters weren't even permitted inside, much less to own a shop.

If he wanted to live in a city, why didn't he move to Urmhalk? The farming city far south of here didn't hate Drifter. But no one there was offering them gold or a shop. It would all work out, he said. That was her Garn's favorite answer. It would work out.

It's a huge city, Rhuna, Garn continued persuasively. Even in his forties he was a handsome man. He had a dreamer's eyes, a nose which turned up a bit and a strong jaw. She insisted he shave every day but he always had stubble nonetheless. She loved that face but already knew all his stories. He'd seen the city once as a boy, and his recollection was tempered with a boy's wonder. They have parks with so many plants and trees you won't miss the forest. They have gardens, which produce every kind of fruit or vegetable, and sell all manner of things in the markets. With the income from the shop I'll be able to buy you anything you want.

She'd heard similar stories about the city from enough people that she knew what Garn said must be true. They had farms hidden in a canyon behind the city. The city was so large it took all day to walk across it. It had everything Garn said – markets, parks, fancy buildings and homes for thousands of people.

True, she wasn't content. She wasn't satisfied living in a wagon. She'd like her own proper home. Like the medicine woman. Maleva. The healer was a Drifter but lived in a hut in the deep mid-forest, and her cottage didn't have wheels. She envied the medicine woman. A real kitchen, rooms, a fireplace and outside, a little permanent garden where she could grow plants. Of course it tempted her.

They didn't even have their own wheels. The wagon Garn had when she married him had been burned in a slaver raid. Slavers didn't risk the mid-forest so near Archanea and its soldiers, and they were superstitious about the northern forest, but they'd been caught in transit. A dozen Drifters had been led east to the ships that day. They'd been lucky to get away with their skins,

It had been hard living with Garn's cantankerous father ever since. Crowded in and Garn working his leather trade. It was always the old man's wagon and the old man's ways. They barely had the privacy to pass wind. Small wonder they were childless. She wished her husband did have a shop or at least his own wagon – but moving to the city and pretending they were something they weren't? She still wasn't convinced.

In the first place, Rhuna protested, we can't do business in the city. They'll find out we're Drifter and Drifter aren't allowed to own shops.

It's not like we have brands on our foreheads. Garn shot back. Both of us know Commonspeak. How would they know?

Rhuna wrung her hands. "I don't want to think of what they'd do if they caught us. At best they'd kick us out and we'd go crawling back to your father in disgrace. At worst, I've heard they feed Drifter to Traugs² in their prison."

Garn frowned. It was unlikely city-kyne really kept Traugs in their prison. As children they'd trembled to parental stories of giant bloodthirsty Traugs. Eat your wood frog or the Traug will get you. Like stories of Fae who rode on giant flying lizards, who knew what to believe? Why didn't she see this was their chance?

Nothing was worse than a stubborn wife. Still, he had to admit Rhuna was right most of the time. As to their getting caught, Drifter didn't look any different than the regular citizens of Archanea did they? A little shorter and a shade darker maybe. Some said that before the city existed, they had been one race. And who was to say which had come from the other?

It's going to be fine. Garn forced himself to speak calmly. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her. He said he'd bring us city clothes before anyone sees us. We already know the lingo. Standing in the brick hallway in their multicolored homespun, of course they looked like Drifters. City-kyne dressed soberly in muted colors. Rhuna wasn't much of a seamstress but it didn't matter. With the gold, they could buy all the city clothes they needed.

They could do this. It would all work out.

Rhuna went on, There are wizards in the city. That's probably it. The man is selling us to a wizard, insisted his wife. They'll eat our souls!

Those are only stories. Garn rolled his eyes. Hush, I hear someone coming.

Garn held up the torch. In the darkness of the hall far ahead they saw light flickering from another torch moving toward them. Shoes tapped on the paved floor. They made out two people. One was the bearded man, carrying a bundle of clothes. Beside him a was a tall woman in a hooded cape.

When the woman reached them she threw back her hood. She was uncommonly beautiful and had light brown hair which caught the torchlight like silk. Rhuna judged her to be in her late twenties. The woman carried with her the scent of exotic perfumes. Her skin was very pale, a contrast to eyes which needed no cosmetic to make them remarkable. They were haunting. Tragedy marked them. The mystery woman's long hair was held at the temples by a gold tiara. She had a serious expression and such a majestic bearing she threw a silence over the Drifter couple.

Rhuna sensed at once that the tall man worshiped the woman. If he was the woman's husband she was lucky to be so loved. Facing him was a different matter than following him. Rhuna could finally study his face. His eyebrows were pronounced. They had shadowed his eyes before. With the torch Garn held illuminating them, Rhuna noticed the man's eyes for the first time. They were a luminous gray. And Gentle. In her first look at him when they'd met after dark at the north wall, she'd thought of him as the man with the heavy eyebrows. Now she thought of him as the man with the kind eyes.

He wore a robe of light brown cloth now, with the hood down. The tall man looked like he might be a priest.

The regal woman stepped close and studied the Drifter couple. She turned to Garn and inspected him from head to toe. Then it was Rhuna's turn. The woman studied her face, then her clothes. Being examined made Rhuna nervous. If the woman asked her to put out her hands to see how clean her nails were she would scream. She hoped the woman wasn't evaluating how she tasted.

The woman in the Tiara turned to her companion. Those clothes!

He nodded, telling her, Let's see if they agree first. He turned to the Drifters and introduced the mystery woman. Rhuna and Garn were astonished by what he said.

This is Princess Cassandra of House Gryffan. The tall man said with solemn gravity. Because of circumstances I fear she will never be Queen, but she is the last of the Gryffan royal bloodline. She is a great granddaughter of the last Gryffan king of Archanea. I am Rynald.

The woman identified as a princess addressed them. She spoke Commonspeak but her words came out in silver tones. Forgive me for inspecting you. I'm not insensitive to the fact I made you uncomfortable. When I explain everything I hope you'll forgive me.

The bearded man hoped they would agree. He had investigated the Drifters thoroughly, by both normal and magical means. The Dorverans were perfect. Unassuming commoners unconnected to them whom no one would suspect of sheltering the Princess's infant. They wanted a child. Garn had a craft but no shop. They had no place of their own and lived with his father. By reputation they were decent, quiet people. He'd looked for Drifters because he thought the infant would be safer away from the city. Originally he'd intended for the boy to be raised in the Drifter camps, but the Princess, horrified at the idea of her baby being raised in a wagon, had insisted the boy be raised in Archanea. Every day that passed put the infant in danger. There was no time to find anyone else.

The Drifters in question were in shock. Rhuna warily stood her ground. Garn shifted his weight from foot to foot, as shy as a boy. He'd never been this close to a princess. Her perfume didn't smell like anything Rhuna made. His keen senses detected a musk that suggested an animal in heat. Being this close to her made his cheeks flush and aroused him in other ways. He didn't know what to say, either. He wanted to say 'Your majesty' or 'your highness' but didn't know the right words. He spat out, I'm Garn Dorveran and this is my wife Rhuna.

Rhuna saw her husband was flummoxed and would never get to the issue. What's this about you wanting to give us a shop? What's going on?

The Princess focused on Rhuna. Her lips tightened. Do you know anything about House Gryffan?

Rhuna only knew gossip she'd heard in