Raven's Cry: Darklands: The Raven's Calling, #4

By Scott E. Douglas

An Iron Age Fantasy, with heart.

 

"There's something about this that disturbs my saival. I don't know what it is about it, but it sits in my stomach like a whirlwind."

"Like a death that needs to be?"

"Like an evil that needs to occur."

 

Miearline is the leader of a band of Warriors sent to "deal with" a rogue fairweitjan who purportedly took sides against the Lingen Council in the recent civil war within the Theolympian Empire.

 

Rundismir is the leader of a band of elite warriors sent to "deal with" a rogue Runier who purportedly taught the secrets of the Runier way to Darklanders. These ways were used in the recent war with the Theolympian Empire.

 

They encounter each other before they find who they're after on Greantalia. What had happened is not what they understood had happened. What is happening is worse. Many times worse and many times deadlier.

 

_____

So you know, there's some swearing, some violence and some reference to sex. It's not "Game of Thrones" level, but it's there. It's not graphic and it has to do with the story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scott E. Douglas
• Release date: Jan 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393430001

Book preview

Prologue

RIPPLES IN THE GUT. It’s what Virernarch decided the disturbances she’d felt these past... were they days? There were periods of dark and light but they felt... She shook her head and walked into a grove in the forest with a singing tree in its centre. If took an age to get used to this place, even longer to get used to her bond. She’d borne him two children in the time she’d been there, which was only one winter. Both children were fine and strong girls with greater saivalswinthan than any Ulfling she’d known, male or female, including her. Things didn’t work here the way things did on Gardijon. Pregnancies were quick, deliveries painless and in such a short time, though they felt like a couple of full seasons.

What’s wrong? a now familiar voice asked her from behind.

The disturbances are calling, she said. I think it’s time you were rid of me.

Zaithatharn’s arms wrapped around her. I can ever be rid of you, he said and kissed her neck. You’re too much a part of me.

I’ve fulfilled my role, I’ve birthed you two daughters.

Don’t tease, Zaithatharn whispered. They’re going to need their mother to grow up.

I think they’ll grow up fine without me.

That wasn’t what I meant. He kissed her again.

What did you mean?

I need their mother to grow up.

She pulled herself free and turned to him. He had thick black hair and looked fewer than twenty summers, though she knew he was so much more than that. He was another surprise. Abomination was the name given him by all who knew of him on Gardijon. It couldn’t be more wrong. Strong and commanding, he was also gentle and kind and loving. She never believed she could love a loving man, but...

Lost in your thoughts again? He smiled.

She put her arms around him. Do you need another offspring?

The girls are all that’re required. I’d like to spend some time pretending to make some more.

Something flashed from behind her. She turned to the singing tree.

It’s something on Greantalia, something from the... He walked to the large tree and looked up the thick trunk into the leafy mass of its branches.

Kaa!

A swartfugul flew to the tree and lost itself in its leaves.

What is it? Virernarch asked.

Go tend to our daughters, Zaithatharn ordered. I’m not about to discard you nor abandon you. You’re too—

Kaa!

I’ll be back soon, when this is over, and we’ll make love again.

What’s happening?

Another birth is coming. When it’s done, we’ll be together, if that’s what you want. If not, I’ll send you back to find a bond among your people.

Do you want me to stay?

Zaithatharn nodded.

Why?

Because you complete me, but if I don’t complete you then—

You do. She looked at the singing tree. An image of the snowy plains of the north of Greantalia appeared amid a swirling mist. You’re my people now. You and Miesha and Tandiearle.

They’re in our cottage, with Arantiale, Zaithatharn said. Go to them and wait for me there.

And you’ll come and make love to me?

For the next thousand seasons. He turned and disappeared into the mist. The image vanished with him.

Cottage, she muttered as she left the grove. The ancient word was bawitha, but that word felt more like the huts that the Darklanders lived in. Small, simple, everything in the one place. Not like the cottage that she inhabited with Zaithatharn. It had separate rooms for cooking, eating, sleeping. More like the huts of the inhabitants of the high mountains before the Eutarian Peninsula, where the Otherlanders came from, but they called their cottages huts. Maybe this was because they didn’t know the word.

1. Plainsmen

MIEARLINE CALMED HER aihwass as she rode with another eleven Lilthling warriors. They’d been following the tracks of twenty of more aihwass for the past three days. The manure on the path indicated they were close. Noises from over the hill prompted her to send two of her girls ahead to investigate.

Miearline’s second, Shartine, rode beside her. Shartine was of noble descent and this was likely to be her last expedition. This meant Miearline would have to find a new second from her troop. Miearline knew Shartine didn’t want that, but at twenty-five seasons there was no choice. Lilthling warriors were required to bond and birth the next generation of Lilthlings. This responsibility was doubly important for those of noble birth. Shartine’s pale complexion and dark brown hair of the high born probably meant she’d not be allowed to take the bow or the sword again. Her kind were especially valuable to the Lilthlingen, likely to birth many daughters after her kind. Even sons borne from one like her would be valued.

Is that them? Shartine asked. Her resonant voice didn’t match her slight frame which didn’t match her deadly skills with sword and staff.

Two riders clad in brown leather armour came over the hillock in front of them.

Miearline nodded and signalled the others to stop.

The riders pulled their aihwass to a halt in front of them.

It’s plainsmen, the first woman said. They’re attacking a small group of men who’re taking shelter within a small clump of trees.

Men? Miearline said.

Blutlings by the look of them, the second rider said.

You’re sure? Miearline asked.

They have no aihwass, or at least there’s no evidence of them. There were two dead with swords in front of the grove. It looked like they’re wearing Runier leathers.

Perhaps we should wait. Shartine chuckled. If it’s rune warriors then they may cull the number of arrows before we deal with their attackers.

We won’t just let them die, Miearline said. They’re Lingen and we’re sworn to—

I wasn’t serious. Shartine looked about. Although, if they’re Blutlings then they’d probably prefer to die than be rescued by twelve women.

Exactly the reason we can’t let them die, Miearline said.

Shartine smiled. You really do have evil within your saival.

How many are there? Miearline asked the riders.

Probably ten Blutlings left, at least twenty plainsmen though. There are five dead plainsmen in front of the grove but... she shrugged.

Miearline took her bow and a handful of arrows. Shall we show these Blutlings what Lilthlings can do to plainsmen? She turned to the women behind her. Most of them were grinning.

How far? Shartine asked.

Half a mile, one of the scouts answered. You can see them from the top of the next hill.

Miearline nodded. Let’s go!

They galloped over the hill in front of them and stopped half way up the next. Miearline dismounted and called the others to do the same. She climbed to the top with Shartine and looked at the scene below.

There was a small grove of trees near a stream which was being set upon by plainsmen. They rode along the tree-line shooting into the trees. Occasionally a black-leather clad man would appear to swipe at one of the aihwass before disappearing.

What’re they doing? Shartine asked.

Trying to hamstring the aihwass, Miearline said with disgust.

Fucking Runiers, Shartine snapped. When’re they going to grow up? We’ve got to stop this, even if only for the sake of the aihwass.

I’ll take five girls and go down the hill, Miearline said. We’ll look onto a world where the plainsmen won’t see you taking the aihwass and the others into the grove. Once you’re there, come and get us.

Shartine nodded.

Send one of the others, Miearline said.

I’ll have one or two with me, Shartine said and moved away before Miearline could respond.

Miearline started calling as soon as she reached the others. Verianine, Liasinine, Wiengine, Priasine and Jerialine. Dismount and give the reigns to another. Take your bows and at least a dozen arrows each. You’re coming with me. She strode up the hill. The other women followed. We’re going into the otherness to hide the others while they go and help the Blutlings.

The women nodded silently.

We need to be on the plain where we can deal with some of these bloody plainsmen ourselves. Miearline took a deep breath and thought of the Motovashnine Keep, her home where the Ermarcian River drains into the Kluzark Sea. To her the river was more than just a boundary between Blutlings and Lilthlings. It was where her mother lived, with her father, her three sisters and six brothers. The Keep had stood for a thousand seasons, constantly threatened by plainsmen to the north, Theolympians to the west and Thavocurians to the south. This expedition was for her keep and protecting the Lingen was its purpose. The Blutlings being attacked were Lingen and they were sending help. The Otherness accepted this and embraced her.

The sky became green and she started down the hill. Though she couldn’t see them, she felt the others with her. They stopped a hundred paces from the trees. Plainsmen were closer than fifty paces and becoming uneasy. The world was one where female riders and their aihwass couldn’t be seen, but the aihwass of the plainsmen could sense something and the plainsmen could sense that.

Miearline knelt and waited.

Some arrows hit the ground behind her. They were suspicious, but couldn’t see. It was tempting to look on a world where a plainsman arrow couldn’t strike a Lilthling in the Otherness, but that would distract her from concentrating on the others. Those aihwass needed to be taken to the safety of the trees.

The Otherness approved.

Eight aihwass were among the trees, then ten, then twelve.

Arrows came from the trees felling plainsmen.

They turned and fled.

Miearline emerged from the Otherness among the others.

A plainsman fell from her arrow, her second arrow missed, her third and fourth arrows felled two others. She didn’t see what the next two did before asking the Otherness to protect her while she protected her sisters and the Blutlings.

The Otherness reluctantly complied.

She moved to the right and found a place away from the others. There were now only eight plainsmen that she could see. She was there to protect the aihwass from harm. The Otherness accepted that as an acceptable excuse for taking another six arrows from her quiver.

She emerged again, and another four plainsmen fell. Two others were felled by arrows from the trees and the other two fled.

Miearline took a deep breath, stood and looked about. There were more than twenty dead plainsmen.

She looked to the trees. Blutlings were coming out from them with her Lilthlings.

Shartine appeared beside her. What the fuck was that?

The fates gave me an opportunity to deal with the plainsmen, so I dealt with them. Miearline smiled. I won’t go against the fates.

Aihwass shit. You said you’d wait for us to—

I said come and get us, Miearline snapped. Now you’re here.

The Runier in charge is furious.

As expected. Is he handsome?

Didn’t notice.

You never do, but it doesn’t matter. They never are. Let’s go have some fun.

A tall, dark-haired man wearing tight black leathers straightened himself and glared at them as they approached. Other men in black leathers congregated about him.

You’re the leader of these Blutlings? Miearline asked him as she approached.

I lead these Runiers, the man said. You lead these, are they women?

No. Miearline shook her head. These are Lilthling warriors. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.

Your armour hides your femininity well.

You mean our tits? I could say something similar about your pants.

One of the men behind the dark-haired man chuckled who turned and glared.

My name is Miearline, and you’re welcome.

The man who chuckled stepped forward. Although shorter than the first man he had a greater presence. His dark eyes and dark hair looked out of place on his pale face. My name is Rundismir and this is Biestarmir, my second.

I thought you said you led these Runiers. Miearline looked at the man named Biestarmir.

If you’re really the leader of warriors then you must know it’s the second who leads them. Rundismir smiled.

Miearline glanced at Shartine.

I see you do know, Rundismir said.

Send some girls to gather arrows, Miearline said to Shartine. Maybe some bows if they’re any worth taking. She turned to the Runier named Rundismir. Do you need anything?

He looked at Biestarmir. Bring our dead and fetch the wounded Lilthlings, send someone to check the plainsmen for anything we might be able to use.

Miearline’s gut twisted. Wounded Lilthlings? Why hadn’t she noticed? She looked at Shartine again who nodded.

There’s only two, Shartine said. They’re being tended to.

We have healers at Amarthoul, Rundismir said. And I believe there are three wounded. He nodded to the group of Lilthlings sitting outside the grove.

Miearline looked. He was right. Two were being tended to by others and a third was having an arrow pulled through her arm.

She’s going to need moer moss on that if it’s not to turn black, Biestarmir said matter-of-factly.

How far is your stronghold? Miearline asked.

Day and a half, Biestarmir answered.

So we can be there tomorrow, Shartine told him.

Biestarmir nodded. Provided you can catch some of those aihwass, we can be there in a couple of days. If you insist on riding that is. Otherwise we can travel with the injured through the Otherness. She loves it when we take somebody to save their life.

Miearline looked at Shartine. I’ll travel with the injured and the Runiers.

And I’ll travel with the Lilthlings, Biestarmir said to Rundismir.

Do you often let your second give orders on your behalf? Miearline asked Rundismir.

Of course, Rundismir said. If I can’t trust him to give orders, I can’t trust him to be my second.

There’ll be four free aihwass then, Miearline said.

I’ll travel with Ambirstmir, Biestarmir said. We’ll use the other two aihwass to bring our dead, and whatever miserable excuses for swords these plainsmen had.

You know your tasks then, Rundismir said.

Biestarmir nodded and left them, taking the other Runiers with him.

Miearline looked at Shartine. She nodded and went to the rest of the Lilthlings.

Two of my girls look like they’ll need to be carried, Miearline said to Rundismir.

There’s going to be eight of us, nine who’re uninjured. I think that’ll be more than enough once my men have made litters for the two who may not be able to walk.

What’re you doing attacking plainsmen this far from your stronghold?

What’re you doing this far from your keeps? You must be more than eight hundred miles from—

A bit more than nine hundred miles and I asked first.

We didn’t expect them. If you’re nine hundred miles from your home, then these are more than a thousand. We heard rumours of plainsmen passing through but thought them foolish.

So you just decided to go have a look? Like you hear of a sahs-mouthed liwa nearby and so you just go for a walk to see if there’s—

We went to find out what these strange horsemen were. We found a group of several hundred north of here and were returning with the news when these ones happened upon us. Now tell me, what’re a group of Lilthlings doing this far west? And do you know anything about these plainsmen?

Several hundred? Which direction were they heading?

Answer one of my questions first.

No.

Then I won’t—

I mean no, I don’t know anything about the plainsmen. Now which direction were they heading?

West, now your turn.

We’ve been called to deal with an issue on Greantalia.

What issue is this?

You said Amarthoul, that’s where your Blutling Council meet, isn’t it?

Will you answer me if I say yes?

No. Are they there now?

Why?

Because if I disclose our purpose, it should be to one of the council.

And you won’t believe me if I say I am one of the council?

No.

Then no, they’re not there now, but the council’s regent is, and his son.

How far were these Plainsmen?

Half a day north.

Then my second should be warned.

I’d say she knows already. Rundismir looked to the grove.

Lilthlings and Blutlings were moving toward the dead plainsmen, a couple of Blutlings were going into the trees and the wounded were being given something to drink by one of the Blutlings.

It’s an elixir to help the pain, Rundismir told her. Nothing dangerous, but it’s alcoholic.

Then I hope it’s strong enough.

2. Tunnels

NOUELIG LED HIS SMALL band along a corridor flanked by small rooms with iron bars instead of walls. Even the doors were made of bars of iron. Such a waste of metal.

Some kind of prison? Provatonious asked.

Something like you’ve seen? Quintrach asked him.

Provatonious looked at her. Nouelig saw his gaze and it bothered him. It wasn’t the gaze of a man looking at an attractive woman, it was of a man with genuine affection for that woman. Quintrach reciprocated with a similar look, but also within a smile. Gods above, let it not be anything more than affection. There’d been enough trouble from a half Otherlander having had a Lingen, but Provatonious was full Otherlander and Quintrach was full Lingen, in fact, full bloody Ulfling.

Whatever is was, Nouelig snapped, I’m tired of drinking water that smells like farts and tired of just dried meat.

You won’t have to worry about the meat much longer, Diearan said.

Nouelig turned to them. The other eight in the party were glaring at the red-haired bandit. They’d been travelling through these tunnels for some time, but with no Sauilin or Thiuhian to judge by, they couldn’t know how long. Though they were fortunate that there were places where water leaked in so they could fill their water skins, and that there was light from strange glowing balls on the roof of the cave, that was the extent of their fortune. Otherwise they were lost, with no way of knowing where they were going, Nouelig had decided they should discover which way the air was moving and walk toward that. Since it smelled fresh it made sense it was from outside and should find a way out. After they’d stopped to sleep for the second time, hope of finding their way out quickly was abandoned. Now their only hope was to find a way out before their food ran out and they became too weak from hunger to go further. Nobody needed reminding that the first of these crises were looming.

We need to keep moving, Nouelig snapped. If we run out of dried meat, good. It’ll push us to move faster. He strode ahead.

Who do you think kept people here? he heard Quintrach ask.

Don’t know, Provatonious answered. What makes you think it’s for people?

Would it have been for some kind of crime, do you think?

I don’t know. If it was for a crime, then why keep them? Why not just kill them? There’s prisons like this in Theolympus, they they’re for senators and people who’re important, and even then they’re only kept until they’re hanged. I can’t imagine there being so many important people needing imprisonment prior to hanging.

Is that what Theolympians do to criminals? They just kill them?

Or they’re sold into slavery. That was Diearan’s voice. To put them into something like this, even for a short time, would mean they’d need to be fed. Why spend money on a criminal when money could be made instead?

Your people have thought well about this, haven’t they? Quintrach asked.

Dear gods, please let this be nothing more than a friendship, Nouelig pleaded silently.

They walked for another hour or so before Nouelig decided it was time to sit and eat more of their dwindling supply of dried meat. They’d just stopped when the ground began to shake.

What’s happening? Diearan asked.

Don’t know, but run, Nouelig snapped as dust began falling from the roof.

They began running along the tunnel.

NOT THAT WAY FOOLS! a voice from in front yelled. TURN LEFT!

A white-haired old man with a beard barred their way with a staff.

The air is moving from this way! Nouelig said.

And left is the way out! the man said.

Nouelig looked at the darkened tunnel to his left.

The way you’re going is lit because it needs to be because it goes deeper into the mountain. The way to the left isn’t lit because it doesn’t need to be because it leads out of the mountain. Now go!

The ground started shaking violently. It was time to decide, not think. Nouelig pointed left and ran. The others followed. There was a dim light where the tunnel turned to the right. Expecting another tunnel lit by the strange globes, Nouelig ran toward it.

Instead of another tunnel, they emerged looking onto a snow-covered forest lit by full round Thiuhian.

Where are we? Quintrach asked once the last of them had emerged from the mountainside.

Don’t know, Nouelig said.

We weren’t in there that long, Provatonious said. It was summer when we... it was summer. Now it’s winter.

Or we’re a lot further north than we were.

I know some Otherness thing took us, Diearan said. But I don’t think—

That’s right! Quintrach scolded. You don’t think. You know nothing of the Otherness. We could be on the White Plains on the big lands for all we know, and we could have been in the tunnels for a dozen seasons.

And you know so much about it? Diearan asked.

She’d know more than you do, Provatonious said.

Just because—

ENOUGH! Nouelig snapped. We’re out and in the cold. We need to find shelter, something to eat more than dried bairas and something to drink other than cave diarrhoea.

Well, I reckon there’s some shelter behind us, Diearan said.

Nouelig looked at the tunnel entrance. No there isn’t, he said.

Why? Diearan turned.

The entrance was blocked by the same kind of metal bars that were on the rooms. The old man was standing on the other side of the barred entrance. Don’t come back here again, he said. Unless you want to die in here, like everybody else does.

He walked back into the tunnel.

Where’s Shaufarn and Kireaskal? someone asked

The ground shook again and rocks fell on the other side of the bars until there was nothing to see inside but rubble.

The shaking subsided and remained quiet for a time. There was nothing they could do about their missing companions.

There’re trees down there which should supply some firewood, Nouelig pointed downhill. We should be able to melt some of that snow to boil some of this meat, and maybe find some tamar or gnarn tears to add to it. It’ll be something better to drink than that foul fart-juice we have in our water skins.

3. Vaerling Council

EKNATHAEL HURRIED TO an early morning meeting in the chambers the Vaerling Council. The council met in chambers on the topmost floor of the Gerriesevaine Tower which stood high in the Einarch Mountains. It was so close to the mountain’s northern border with the great western ocean that it received light from Sauilin long before settlements in the foothills below.

At fifty-eight winters Eknathael should be looking forward to a quiet life in one of those settlements instead of continuing his service to the Vaerling Council in its citadel. There was no sense wishing for this. Recent decrees from the Northern Council at Grimulsvoton meant the council needed a fairweitjan capable of safely navigating Stathslepen with a sarndastain, a message stone carved with northern runes. The messages of these past seasons were the kind that could cause a sikathis, meaning a Maurthrja or Skosil could be released upon the messenger without warning. The old fairweitjan had recently had two narrow escapes.

Big wooden doors and two armed Vaerlings barred his entrance to the chamber. He stopped in front of the larger of the two guards. Tell Tiearlael I’m here with news from Stathslepen.

They’re not—

I know they’re not sitting! Eknathael snapped. I’ve news from Stathslepen and I know he’s in there, now put your head through that door and tell him or I’ll order that head removed.

The man knocked on the door.

WHAT! somebody inside bellowed.

The old fairweitjan’s out here with news from Stathslepen.

IS IT IMPORTANT?

It’s not from Grimulsvoton but it’s concerning none the less. Eknathael called.

Then send him in.

Eknathael pushed through the door.

Tiearlael was sitting at the large square table opposite Garafraestael, his second. Tiearlael wore the red and black robe of the head of the council, his lined face looking older than the forty or so summers he’d seen. While his face looked like it belonged to an older man, his flowing blonde hair, strong arms and sharp eyes looked like it belonged to a much younger man. This was a stark contrast to Garafraestael whose face was like that of a wiry youth but whose body was one of a man of sixty winters.

Well, what’s concerning? Tiearlael asked as Eknathael sat at the too-big table.

There’s a disturbance at the Brunna, Eknathael said. It sounds like the gateway was closed again.

And who told you this? Garafraestael asked.

I felt the disturbance and went to Stathslepen, thinking another sarndastain was placed. Instead I found a red pillar in the centre of the grove.

The Ulfling? Tiearlael asked.

He’s dead. Eknathael looked at Tiearlael. Skosil.

Tiearlael nodded. It’s a pity it took so long.

What about the Brunna? Garafraestael asked.

When I looked to the northern horizon the green of the sky had red in it where the Brunna would be.

You’re sure it was the Brunna?

Yes, Eknathael said. It’s the only thing that would cause the red pillar.

How many do you think have come? Garafraestael asked.

Eknathael shook his head.

Are they more airiza, do you think? Tiearlael asked.

There haven’t been airiza from that gate for two generations, Garafraestael said. Even then, how do we know they were ancestors and not some form of Skosil?

They emerged speaking only the liugan-alatheían, they bore the metal armour made from—

That doesn’t mean they were airiza. Just because I say I am a forefather in liugan-alatheían it doesn’t mean I am.

If I say it in the Otherness then I’ll die, Tiearlael snapped, unless it’s the truth. He looked at Eknathael. Isn’t that so, fairweitjan?

Eknathael nodded. I think that may be the reason the gate was blocked, he said.

But something came out, Garafraestael said. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?

Tiearlael raised an eyebrow and looked at Eknathael.

Someone came out, Eknathael said. More than one, and something with them had an Ulfling smell about him.

Well then, Tiearlael looked at Garafraestael. I suppose we should call the others. Let them approve of what we’re about to do.

Do we have any who can? Garafraestael asked.

Anthael, Eknathael said.

The other two looked at him.

He’s the only one with skills enough to do this. He’s been to the big lands, remember?

We’ve some who are Runier trained, Garafraestael said. They’d be better suited.

Blutling training won’t help them if it’s airiza. He’ll smell the wilja-blothis of their training. Anthael learned the Driugan ways of the Ulflingen. That’ll be a familiar, and friendly, smell about him.

SOMETHING WAS WRONG. It was unusual that the Vaerling Council would be called upon to meet close to first-meal, especially when all