Anãrren Gifted: Kaythen War

By Christopher C. Dimond

All he wanted was to search for a map in Kaythera’s Grand Library. Instead, he finds a country on the brink of civil war.

 

After arriving in Kaythera, home of the legendary Kaythen knights, Roen finds not all is as it appears—the Grand Duke of Mairn has suspicions his king is being manipulated, and when he learns of Roen’s past, the grand duke implores the young healer to help his ailing monarch.

 

But before they can speak with the king, they are confronted by the brazen King’s Champion and a mysterious Anãrren advisor, who demand that Roen and the duke return home. If the grand duke and his allies refuse, they risk dragging the entire kingdom into war.

 

Who then can they trust to help them reach the king? And how far is Roen willing to go to protect not only himself, but the lives of those around him?

 

Find out now in Anãrren Gifted: Kaythen War!

 

Kaythen War is the action-packed third book in the sweeping, four book Anãrren Gifted sword and sorcery fantasy series. If you like loyal heroes, detailed fight sequences, and redemptive story arcs, then you’ll love Christopher C. Dimond’s character-driven tales.

• Language: English
• Publisher: UDW Publishing
• Release date: Sep 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9781948619271

Book preview

Prologue

EXCERPT FROM ROBERT JOHN LOCKELY’S AN ACCOUNT OF THE FALL

Once Killian had seen that his family was safe and had taken an all too brief moment to hold his wife and children in his arms, he hurried on Ãrrénsia, the capital of the Anãrren Empire.

He needed to warn his general about the approaching army.

The large doors opened ahead of Killian, admitting him into the great hall of Ãrrénsia. He nodded this thanks to the city guards watching the doorway as he strode through, and then he continued forward to greet General Sagrin, high general to the emperor and the leader of the light guards.

As Killian approached, he bowed in respect, but General Sagrin just waved him forward.

Now is no time for formality. You are one of only a handful of our people to return from the battle upon the Central Plains. Even now the common army marches toward Ãrrénsia. The general paused and allowed a bitter smile. It is good to see you, though. I trust your family is well?

Killian nodded. Well, enough. But the common peoples do not march alone. There is at least one Anãrren aiding them. In truth, I believe he has turned them against us.

The general grimaced. Long have I warned the emperor that our allies would betray us with little provocation. They are not Anãrren. Fear would have been a better tool for building our relationships than trust or respect.

I must disagree, sir, Killian answered with a frown. I was making progress with the kings I met. I know not what lies they have been told, but I believe the other countries are only marching against us because they have been misled.

The general grunted. Mayhap. But it does not change that we are now alone.

At that, Killian shook his head. No, sir. I do not believe that to be true. I saw no sign of the Kaythen knights during the battle. We should call to them with haste. Long have we exchanged goods and knowledge with the Kaythens. If we ask them now, I am sure they will come. With their mastery of horses, they could be enough to save us.

The Kaythens? General Sagrin snapped in anger. "You would trust our fate to the Kaythens? Then your confidence is misplaced. We are Anãrren, touched by the light! We do not need the promise of aid from outsiders. We need the guarantee of our own self-reliance. The light has blessed us, and that is all we need. Our Anãrren forefathers built this country without the aid of outsiders. And with the light guiding us now, we will stand alone once more."

Killian frowned, sure that his general was set on a path of folly. Please, he added. This is not the same as the Drovgar Rebellion that you quelled in the west. The Anãrren I encountered with the common army was able to block our access to the light. It is he that crippled our forces.

But the general remained adamant. When the common army comes, we will meet them. Ãrrénsia has never fallen. I still command the city’s main guard and a small garrison of light soldiers. The emperor agrees with me. If we are besieged, we will not cower. And we will not beg for help from the Kaythens. Before Killian could muster another argument, the general gestured for him to leave. Go now and take your place with the remaining light soldiers. There is little time to prepare.

Killian bowed as he backed away. But when he exited the great hall, he paused. His general had ordered him to the fortifications to the south, but he knew in his heart that it was a doomed effort. And he alone had returned with a story of what the rogue Anãrren guiding the common army had done. If they cowered behind the walls of their ancient city, they would fail.

Killian took a breath, resolved to do what he must, and he started to the north deeper into Ãrrénsia and away from the city’s fortifications.

He was off to visit his emperor.

Chapter 1

Welcome News

Go now and take your rightful place with the light soldiers. There is little time to—

Roen frowned. There they were, just as he remembered. References to Anãrren light guards and light soldiers. But the Anãrrens didn’t distinguish between light and heavy infantry. They always operated in small teams. So, what could Lockely have mistranslated that—

What is he doing over there? The irritation in Blademaster Myrshao’s voice carried even from across the training yard of Tyshera’s palace.

Roen tried to ignore the remark, just as he had been ignoring the persistent clatter of steel from those training as they all waited for news from Tiryon.

But Tiryon’s older brother Prince Therian wasn’t as wise. "By the looks o’ it, our young Anãrren friend is reading. It’s an archaic practice, but one I hear he rather enjoys. Ye see, it involves these things called books."

Roen glanced up in time to catch the withering glare Tyshera’s old blademaster leveled at Therian. At least Tiryon’s eldest brother, King Thyras, found it more amusing.

If he’s found another training manual, ye’d best show a touch more respect, King Thyras added. I hear he scored a few touches against ye in yer last match.

Prince Therian broke into a grin. Aye, that he did!

The blademaster grunted. First, I find the boy playing with sticks, now he’s reading for his training. I don’t know why I bother. He’s almost as bad as Tiryon.

Therian shared his grin with his brother. Ah! Now we see why our blademaster is grumpy—his star pupil won’t be available fer training!

"Won’t? Isn’t willing, more likely. His wife’s the one having the baby. So, I don’t see why he shouldn’t be out here training."

I do suspect if ye were to raise the issue with Princess Layen, she’d have more than a few pointed responses, the king answered with a mild understatement, to which the blademaster could only shrug.

Another round then, my King?

King Thyras shook his head. I think not. I’d rather step aside and see if Therian can pry Roen from his book without losing a few points in the process.

Though Roen was only half listening, that was more than enough of a warning for him. After hearing about his struggles in the north, Tiryon’s brothers had taken some delight in continuing his training, which usually consisted of ambushing him when he least expected it. That, of course, only meant that now he always expected it. So even before he heard the sharp patter of Therian’s feet on the flagstone, Roen tucked a finger into An Account of the Fall to mark his place as reached for his latest flickerstaff.

He was on his feet and readying his guard before the Tyshoan prince had even reached him.

This, of course, prompted another laugh from the king. You’re losing your finesse, brother! He’s so confident he hasn’t even dropped his book—he’ll use a scribe’s guard against you even if he hasn’t yet mastered the sheathed guard!

As Therian swept in with his sheathed sword, Roen dodged to the side, resolved not to let the banter from Tiryon’s brothers distract him. That was one of several valuable lessons he’d learned while training with Tyshera’s blademaster.

Therian’s attack came high, so Roen slipped low and used his midstaff as an overhead shield, forcing the attack to slip away to the right. Then he lunged forward before Therian could recover and lashed out with the midstaff. The prince laughed as he hopped back, and Roen quickly extended the flickerstaff to keep the pressure on him.

Of course, this was a trick most of the noblemen in Tyshera had witnessed, and Roen had managed more than a few impressive hits against many of them the first time they had. But since Therian had now seen it time and time again, he was well prepared. At the last moment, he slipped to the side and pressed forward once more, forcing Roen to adjust his grip and flick the stick back to the less powerful midstaff length. Then the swordsman caught the top of Roen’s staff with the hilt of his sword, trapping it there with one hand as he began a quick twisting move to snatch it from Roen’s hands.

But this was a disarm the prince had used on him before, and Roen had been practicing a counter he’d read about for just such an eventuality. He lunged forward, now almost chest to chest with the prince as he allowed his staff to twist with the swordsman’s move. And when the prince made a last sharp grab with a backstep, Roen simply followed and used the momentum to leverage the tip of his staff away from the prince’s grip before hopping away.

Well, he’s certainly been learning more than history in those books o’ his, the prince commented to the others with a grin.

But Master Myrshao just grunted.

Ye’re lucky he didn’t use the book itself against ye, King Thyras added. Ye left him with a free hand while yers were both trapped.

Therian turned and shot Roen a grin. Now there’s an idea—more than one way t’ use a book, right?

Roen frowned. He’d almost forgotten he was still holding An Account of the Fall. I don’t think I like that notion, he answered. It doesn’t at all seem like a proper way to treat—

Therian flashed a mischievous grin and leapt forward before Roen could finish, keen to take advantage of the momentary distraction and probably hoping he could force the scholar to drop his favorite tome.

But just as Therian closed within striking distance, a door on the far side of the courtyard swept open. Everyone in the yard looked up as Shaon emerged and cast a quick nod to the king and then he stepped aside to allow another to exit.

It was Tiryon.

His face was drawn and haggard, the color under his eyes belied the fact he hadn’t slept in days, and his head hung low as he stepped into the yard.

Therian’s exuberance faded in the face of his brother’s expression. Layen? Yer little one? Are they…?

Tiryon sighed. I fear I bring ill news. He turned his gaze to the stern faced blademaster before he broke into a wry grin. I’ll hae even less time fer me training now that I hae a daughter t’ look after!

Therian broke into a relieved laugh before he rushed forward to congratulate Tiryon, while King Thyras did the same in a more regal measure. But Tyshera’s blademaster seemed less amused. He just grunted and shook his head.

Roen waited until Tiryon’s brothers had congratulated him before moving to his friend. And how is Layen?

Tiryon beamed. Tired but well. And our daughter is strong and healthy.

Therian clapped his brother on the back. Good! And did ye two settle on a name?

Tiryon nodded. Akyra.

King Thyras nodded. Then it shall be my pleasure to announce it fer all to know—Tyshone has a new princess!

With the joyful news of an extension to the royal family, the inhabitants of Tyshera took the opportunity to rejoice—though Roen wondered how much of it was just an excuse for another celebration. And if he’d thought their revelry over Prince Tiryon’s marriage the previous spring had been dedicated, their celebration of Tiryon and Layen’s daughter was even more so. The happy event also brought another round of visitors from neighboring kingdoms to welcome the little princess, including a delegation from Cethor. But unlike the wedding when Lord Kyle had served as a proxy for the king who had remained in Cruith, this time Roen learned that the king of Cethor would be visiting.

And he’d only been in Tyshera for a day before Roen received a royal summons.

I thought you’d be happy for the news, Therian’s wife, Princess Jhasmina, teased after delivering the message. Wasn’t he your mentor in Cruith?

Roen nodded. He was. But now he’s a king. And I… well, the last time I heard from him, I didn’t receive a welcoming message. In fact, I had to talk Tiryon out of raising the issue with his eldest brother.

The princess pursed her lips, as though she’d heard the story already, so Roen just shrugged.

Perhaps I’m worrying too much. Either way, I hope you’ll be willing to watch after Elliun for me? Just in case the meeting doesn’t go well.

Jhasmina smiled. Of course. And I’ll tell Therian where you’re going as well. She gave him a conspiratorial wink. Just in case you need Tiryon’s wrath after all.

Though the conversation with the princess had helped, it was still with mixed feelings that Roen approached the guest wing of the Tyshoan palace. In many ways it reminded him of the palace in Cruith that had once been his home, and those associations brought with them an unexpected flood of memories and longing for those simple times. As he drew closer to the visiting king’s suite, a pair of Cethor guards flanking the doorway greeted him. He introduced himself, and a moment later they swept open the elaborate double doors and escorted him into the room beyond.

Roen hadn’t seen his old mentor since he’d left almost two years before, and a sudden dread filled his heart as fearful images flashed through his mind as he worried about the frail and worn man he’d left. When Roen had last seen him, Geoffrey was burdened by his new duties as steward of Cethor after King Andrews’s death.

But now Geoffrey was the king, and the man waiting for him in the room beyond was not the frail figure of Roen’s fears. Instead, he found the strong and vigorous scholar he remembered so well, already a blur of movement as he bustled about the quarters. Beside him the dignified Lord Kyle struggled to keep pace, nodding and taking notes as they settled some remaining duties. For an instant Roen could almost picture himself following them through the Cruith stacks, searching for a volume King Andrews had requested.

But during their adventures through the king’s library, Geoffrey had never worn a crown. It was in that moment that Roen finally accepted that the king of Cethor and lord of Cruith really was Geoffrey, his dear friend and mentor.

The guards stopped him roughly as one stepped forward to announce themselves.

We present Roen Sumãrren for an appeal to the crown for crimes committed under the name of Hennery Roen.

Roen stiffened as both Geoffrey and Lord Kyle spun. The king stared at him for a long moment, while Lord Kyle simply glared.

A moment, if you would, my good Lord, the king finally murmured. It appears there is other business to which I must attend.

Lord Kyle scowled before turning to move past Roen. As he did so, he managed another glare at Roen before he slipped out the door.

Roen’s heart sank, all fond reminiscences fading as he steeled himself for what must come next. Before the king could say another word, Roen dropped to one knee. I present myself to my king, as summoned. I am here to accept whatever judgment you see fit for my actions. I only ask that you first know the full details of what came to pass. There was silence for a moment, and when Roen finally looked up again, the king was still standing there, his eyebrows furrowed in a disapproving frown.

Hennery… His voice was rough, causing Roen to fear the worst. But then the king took a slow step forward and spread his arms wide. Hennery, my boy! After two more great strides, Geoffrey was pulling him to his feet.

When Roen rose, the frown that had been on his mentor’s face settled into a broad grin.

Oh, my dear Hennery. I sent you that pompous summons in jest, sure you would understand the joke! I see now I have rattled you more than I intended. So please know that if you are to be judged, then surely, I should be standing beside you! Recall, if you will, that it was I who set you on that ill-fated interview in the first place. Oh, I do tremble when I think of the trials you have endured, and for what? A bit of paperwork? He shook his head. No. If there is blame to be had, I shall take as much a share in it as you.

Geoffrey took a step back, looking Roen over carefully. Besides, he added, from what I understand, the prisoner that carried you away was given a full pardon for his crimes by King Alahun. If that is so, then I should think it likely you were right to assist him in obtaining that freedom, if a bit premature. Geoffrey winked, and something in his tone suggested he knew more than he said. His gaze lingered for a moment as he looked Roen in the eyes, and he muttered something to himself with a curious smile. But then the grin returned, and he pulled Roen into another embrace. Oh, but I am sure you must have had an adventure! And, I should hope, a few more stories to add to your research. So, do not think this old man has forgotten your studies. Come! As penance for abandoning me when I needed you so, I shall insist that you tell me all you’ve done while we dine.

Chapter 2

Dinner with a King

The meal was both elegant and well prepared, though Roen took little notice. He soon found himself engaged in the retelling of all that had happened to him after he’d left Cruith. Some of it Geoffrey had already learned, either from official statements issued by the Ahun Kingdom or from his own sources. But many of the details were new to him, including the nature of Galen’s crimes and the final fate that had befallen Roen’s friend.

Well, Geoffrey finally admitted. I had suspected from the start that he was an Anãrren, which is why I thought of you for the paperwork. He frowned. But if I had known it would place you in such jeopardy, I never would have considered it!

Roen gave his old mentor a critical look. But you couldn’t have known. And you were already so overworked at the time.

Geoffrey just waved a hand. Well, it did me little good knowing it was my fault you had been dragged away into such a mess. After the reports that Galen had escaped and you’d been injured in the process… He shook his head. I thought it welcome news indeed when you were declared a fugitive of the Ahun crown, even if only because it meant you were still alive! Geoffrey leaned back and eyed Roen thoughtfully with the same calculating stare he’d so often used. Though I will add, of course, that that last bit of information surprised me somewhat less than it surprised everyone else in Cruith, he added with a smile.

Because you suspected Galen was an Anãrren, Roen answered with a matching smile.

Exactly. Geoffrey shrugged. And because I know you. Or at least I used to, he murmured. Here, let me have another look at you. He leaned forward once more to stare at Roen’s face, his gaze searching Roen’s eyes. Remarkable, he muttered as he finally settled back in his chair. And this is why you are now going by Roen Sumãrren? he asked, waving one hand to Roen’s distinctive Anãrren gaze.

Roen nodded. Galen said it was his last gift to me—to awaken what had been sleeping within.

Geoffrey chuckled. Well, my dear Hennery Roen, I always knew you’d have a remarkable future, even if I didn’t expect your passions for Anãrren lore to turn out quite so personal.

Roen smiled but wasn’t sure how to respond. Fortunately, Geoffrey changed the subject instead.

So, Geoffrey prompted, tell me more about your gifts. How many of the stories are true? Should I assume your name change is in remembrance of your friend? Or might it signify the nature of your newfound talents?

Roen shrugged. In a way, both. I am able to heal, if that’s what you mean. But the real gesture behind the name change was to respect what Galen gave me. I suppose it just felt right. After I realized what Galen had done, I also knew that I was no longer quite the same. So, in some small way, the name helped to show that. Roen shrugged, feeling his words were failing to express what he wished to convey.

But Geoffrey simply nodded as he so often did, seeming to understand exactly what Roen meant even when he wasn’t able to express it as well as he’d have liked.

But speaking of name changes, Roen countered with a wide smile. I’m not the only one at the table with a name change, and I’ll admit I’m quite keen to hear the story behind your own.

Geoffrey frowned. My name change? Oh, yes. Of course. You mean the additional title, he remarked dryly. I trust that I needn’t assure you the idea was not my own. It seems that while I was serving as steward, there were already negotiations occurring in the shadows. None of the nobles could agree upon whom to appoint as king, as each held their own grudges against the others and their own reasons to want the crown. Eventually, the negotiations turned to outright bickering about who would take King Andrews’s place. Geoffrey sighed. At least most of them realized that without a clean transition of power, they were heading toward a civil war. So, they settled upon a candidate all were willing to follow. Geoffrey held out his arms with a frown, allowing for the wordless conclusion of his story.

But when did they tell you about this plan? Roen asked.

Geoffrey made a pained face. The morning before they set the vote to the council. And it was presented to me as less of an offer and more of a plea. So, I relented. His gaze drifted to the wall behind Roen’s head. Though I’ll confess there are still days when I wonder if I made a terrible mistake. He sighed and looked at Roen again. Managing the dictates of even a small kingdom is far more challenging than that of a library, I am afraid.

Well, if it helps, Roen replied with a warm smile, I can’t think of anyone in that palace I would trust more.

Ha! You always did manage to ingratiate yourself. Then he eyed Roen carefully for a moment. So, what are you doing here in Tyshone? After King Ahun granted you a full pardon, I had rather hoped you might return home.

Roen looked away. I—well, I didn’t know if I would be welcome. Technically, I had abandoned my assignment, and I found myself swept away with outlaws. Then, of course, when I was here for Tiryon and Layen’s wedding, I saw Lord Kyle and—

Oh, good! So, he conveyed my wishes that you return?

Roen blinked. "Your—? Well, no. He conveyed quite the opposite, actually. It was because of his conviction that I was sure you didn’t wish to see me again."

Geoffrey’s expression twisted into a rare fit of anger. Oh, that presumptuous, overweening nobleman! The former scholar muttered a few other choice phrases inspired by many years of deep study. "He has been a constant thorn in my side. He seems quite self-assured that he knows better than I do what I should be doing. Geoffrey scoffed and gave Roen a wry smile. I don’t suppose you’d like his job, would you?"

Roen could only shake his head in confusion.

"Well, I can’t say I blame you. And our good lord does try. He just needs to stop assuming that he knows what everyone should be doing better than they do themselves. Regardless, I can assure you now that he and I will have a very pointed discussion. I was quite clear that he was supposed to convey that you would be granted the same pardon King Ahun offered whenever you wished to return home."

Roen smiled, once more flooded with unexpected emotion. I am very much relieved to hear that.

Good. And I suppose that does explain your hesitancy in visiting.

I almost came anyway, Roen admitted softly. I can’t count the number of times I’ve longed for another stare at the map hanging in the back of our library in Cruith.

When Geoffrey frowned, Roen broke into a grin. I’ve been across the Northern Plains, Geoffrey! I’ve seen the homeland of the Anãrrens, and I went searching for their lost cities. But I couldn’t find them, and the maps I’ve been able to find aren’t as complete as the one in Cruith.

For a long moment, Geoffrey didn’t say a word. Then he slowly shook his head as a smile lit his face. I should have guessed that after a sip of adventure, you’d dive into the whole barrel. All the way to the northern lands? Geoffrey sighed softly. That is a feat indeed. But you really found nothing? He frowned. I’d have thought you’d manage better than that. After all, you spent so many hours as a young page staring up at that map that I was sure you could recreate it with your eyes closed. There were even days I joked that you knew those charts better than your own reflection. Why do you think there is anything left of the cities now if you weren’t already able to find them?

Well, I can’t say I found nothing, exactly. I did find an old garrison with a preserved library, as well as the ancient fortifications at Brennmair. As Roen offered more details about the works he’d found in