Haven Keep (Book 1) (67 page)

Soren could see by Dethan’s expression the man was not sure if Soren had included him in that last comment.  Soren did not care what Dethan thought.  The young clan chief wasn’t Soren’s problem.  Baiden would be here soon enough to sort things out.

The sounds of violence continued for a few moments then died down.  Nothing could be heard through the iron doors.  Everyone on the steps held their breath and waited, but no one came out.  Anora began banging on the door again, but still there was no answer.  Dethan again pulled her away, more gently this time.  He led her up the steps and all followed him until Soren was left alone with the dogs and the Halfen man Von had kicked down the steps.  The man had not stirred and probably never would.

Dethan and Anora had given up on Von, but Soren would not.  He waited by the doors, alone with his thoughts and the dogs.  Jen began to whine and Isk laid his head on her paws to comfort her.  Soren couldn’t help but think of himself as a third dog, waiting for his master.

Another commotion began up above, but Soren ignored it.  Von ordered him to guard the door and that was what Soren was going to do.  Moments later Soren saw the lady Elizbet at the
head of the stairs.  Her face was an image of horror.  She ran towards the doors.

“No, no, no. Von, no!”

Soren met her halfway.  She tried to push passed Soren, then went limp in his arms.

“Not again,” she sobbed.  “We can’t lose him again.”

Soren looked to the top of the stairs once more and saw Baiden standing above, his face grim.  Obviously someone had told the new arrivals what had transpired.  Alensa was soon at his side then Kaiden as well.  Anora appeared too, crying on her mother’s shoulder.  Kaiden tried to hide his tears, but Alensa wept openly.  She was shattered, as if she had lost a son.  Baiden’s hopeless expression was even worse.

Soren slowly led Elizbet up the stairs, where her children met her.  She gathered them tightly in her arms.  Soren felt like crying too, only he was not convinced Von was dead. 
But if he lived, why did he not come out?

“We will have to dig through the top to get inside,” Baiden said. His grim voice matched his expression.

Soren nodded.  He looked at his palm, the shallow cut was still there, the ragged edges barely starting to heal.  It pulsed still, with a power similar to that of his Haven Keep dagger. Von had used his own dagger to perform the ceremony, and that dagger had done something more than just cut Soren. He was bound somehow.  Bound to Von.  It was something that settled on his bones, chained him more completely than any iron fetters ever could.  As soon as he spoke the words of the vow he had felt it, felt a connection to Von.  He was sure Kaiden and Yaris did as well, but that connection had changed.  Changed sometime after the fight within Stone Abbey had commenced.  The binding no longer felt so,...complete.  He hoped the change did not signify Von was dead.  His young master had entered Stone Abbey a very long time ago.
Why did he not come out?

Soren looked to Kaiden.  Kaiden was massaging his palm, shaking his head in denial.  He felt it too.  Something was different.  Soren couldn’t bring himself to believe it, but he had to face the possibility.

“I had hoped he would still emerge, but I no longer believe he will,” Soren confessed.

Soren’s hands hung low.  He felt more defeated than ever in his life.  When he was a child a vyr took everyone that was dear to him, killed all of his remaining family and left him with scars.  This was worse.  He had failed.  Soren finally knew what it was that would make this day dark.

No one spoke.

No one moved.

Von’s friends and loved ones stood at the top of the stairs in silence, stunned, unable to move, paralyzed by their sudden loss.  Their pain and anguish manifest in tears and muffled weeping.

Soren wanted to leave, just be gone, leave this place behind, but where would he go?  He
could not leave Von’s body inside Stone Abbey.  He would stay until Von was retrieved, then help to escort him home, sing the death dirges that would help the young lord find his way into the next life.  It was his duty, but he would do it because Von was his friend.

The somber stillness was suddenly broken, broken by the sound of the iron barricade sliding back from its braces.  Everyone faced the great metal doors at the foot of the broad staircase, not daring to hope.  The doors moved slowly outward. Soren allowed himself to finally take a breath.

Von pushed the doors open wide and stood in the arched doorway, his silhouette framed by the carnage behind him.  He began a slow climb up the stairs.  He wore his sword and dagger on opposite hips, his helm was in his hand.  The dark green cloak hung down his back, exposing the armor from Haven Keep, spattered with blood.  His face was stained with blood as well, dried now and flaking off.  Soren did not believe any of the blood belonged to Von.  His eyes were empty and he climbed the stairs slowly, in silence.  The two dogs jumped up at Von’s appearance and heeled behind him,  flanking their master like some bestial honor guard.

Elizbet was the first he greeted, though he said not a word to her.  He hugged her tightly and relief filled her face, her sorrow gone.  Von then scooped up each of her boys and kissed them on the forehead.  He turned to Baiden and finally spoke.

“The traitors are dead,” he announced.  “I hear you won a great victory.”

“We did!”  Baiden acknowledged and the tension visibly left him.  “There is much to celebrate.”  The tears of grief that consumed Baiden’s family were instantly turned to tears of joy.

Von’s eyes remained dry.  He walked slowly to his horse and mounted.

“Soren, Kaiden,” Von’s voice was cold and emotionless.  “I will return for what we removed from Haven Keep.  Keep it safe for me.”  He turned to Elizbet. “Bet, where is my brother?”

She looked at him, her relieved expression turning to worry and confusion.  “He continues to harry the Halfen, but he will be in Azmark in a matter of days.”

“I was of a mind to let the Halfen run,” Baiden said, “but your brother did not wish to leave any pricks on which we could stub our toes.”

“Jubben led the Halfen army?”  Von asked.

“Yes,” Baiden answered. “He has managed to elude us so far.”

“Too bad he was not here,” Von said, some heat returning to his voice.  He glanced around once more.  “Bet, tell Dom I am sorry I missed him.”  He turned his horse to ride off.

“Wait!” Bet cried.  “Where are you going?”

“There is something I need to do,” Von answered.  He turned again to go. Isk and Jen still flanked him.  All eyes stared at his back, once more he turned to speak to Elizbet.

“Do you remember when we used to play pirates?”

“Yes,” Bet answered.

“Tell Dom that what he is looking for is hidden where our buried treasure always was.”

Bet’s mouth hung open as did Baiden’s.

Durendal
, Soren thought.

Von disappeared into the trees.

Chapter Forty

Corren sat alone on his bed in the small room at the back of the shrine.  His last two nights were spent taking care of the wounded and practicing his healing arts.  Sleep was a luxury during times like this, but when he did sleep his rest was filled with dreams that were more vivid than any he’d ever dreamed.  He knew them for the storm dreams of a cleric.

Corren suspected Wellen experienced similar dreams.  The old cleric possessed a worried look and when his eyes met Corren’s he failed to conceal his anxiousness.  Clerics from the north were down to help with the injured as well.  They all walked about with the same somber faces.  Corren understood why, they sensed the same thing he did, but he suspected none of them quite understood as well as he.

The dream was of the largest storm Corren had ever seen.  A massive cumulonimbus towering into the night sky, obscuring the constellations the clerics used to interpret events of import.  The cloud did not come from the sea as all natural storms do, it flowed out of the south with its enormous anvil stretching over the lands of the north. Lightning flashed throughout the billowing gray, reaching from the sky to the ground.  The storm threatened to engulf the north until Corren saw the formation of another storm.  A storm much smaller than the first, but filled with just as many lightnings.  The storms met in the heavens above Corren’s homeland and exploded in monolithic thunders.  Lightning flashed from cloud to cloud, then from cloud to ground, tearing at the earth, burning to ash all in their path.

The power of the first storm was permeated with a feeling of wrongness, a desired to engulf everything that lay in its course.  The other cloud defended the north, but gave no heed to what it destroyed in the process.  The first storm devoured as it conquered, the second ravaged indiscriminately.  The larger of the lightning storms must be the Horde, the second only gave one clue as to its identity.  An identity Corren was sure the other clerics could not know.  The lightnings that flashed from the smaller storm had the feel of a sword, a sword Corren helped to create.  Corren’s thoughts turned to Von.
  Where could he be?

*
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Alensa watched Von disappear into the trees.  He obviously did not want any one to follow, but what did that matter?  He was too young to go off on his own, not yet wise enough to make all his own decisions.  He needed nurturing and protection, especially now.  She thought of Von as one of her own, hoped that his marriage to Anora would truly make him that one day, but her daughter had gone and done something Alensa did not want to even think about. 
Did Anora not understand her whole future would be affected by her decision?
  Alensa knew her daughter had made her decision out of loyalty to her father and to her homeland.  She wondered if Anora would have made the same decision if she had known earlier who Von was.  She  hoped her daughter would be happy, but she knew there would always be regrets and  thoughts of
“what if?”

Von was no longer visible, but there was still time to catch him, convince him to come
home with them.  He was not alone, he had family, he always did.  Now he knew his brother still lived and he had a sister by marriage, one he obviously loved, and his nephews would need their uncle.  Alensa stared at the trees, hoping to get a glimpse of Von, hoping she would see him returning, but she knew he would not. 
Did everyone else not see that he wasn’t coming back?
 
Could they not see he didn’t just want to be alone, but that he truly was leaving?

“Baiden,” Alensa begged, “you must go after him.  He needs us.  Now more than ever.”

“He will be okay, my love.”  Baiden sounded so sure of himself.  “He will come back when he is ready.”

Her husband was wrong.  Alensa knew it.  She raised Von as her own, saw him grow into maturity.  He was often overcome by melancholy moods and was known to spend long hours brooding, but this was worse than she had ever seen.  Von’s heart had taken too much sorrow in his short life and he let it become hard, allowing no one inside, no one to share his feelings.  His heart was like a flint, only she knew there was still a softness deep inside, or at least there once was.   What was left of his heart was finally broken.  Alensa hoped that seeing Elizbet would start the healing process Von refused to let take place.  A process that should have started so many years ago, but now she feared his reunion with Elizbet had softened his heart just enough to allow it to be crushed.

Tears filled Alensa’a eyes and she avoided looking at her daughter.  “He is gone, my husband, and you let him go.”  She turned her horse and started the slow ride back to Azmark.

*
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“The boy is impetuous,” Berkler spoke the words aloud though there was no one around to hear them.  He had disappeared into the hills days ago and with him secrets that where lost for generations.  Berkler knew Von somehow rediscovered them, but he would still need guidance, need the help of a master.  Von still did not know everything there was about being a master blacksmith.  For generations the secrets were passed from master to pupil and now only three men, himself one of them, knew of those secrets.  Many of those secrets were still taught to every apprentice, but not all.  Only the ones who showed the skill and aptitude as well as the desire were given the further knowledge.  Von was one of those pupils, only he pressed forward and learned faster than Berkler thought was right.  How could he guide him if he went off wildly on his own?

Berkler suspected Von had accomplished something that had not been done for thousands of years.  Somehow Von had rediscovered dragon steel, a secret even he, Sem and Tyree no longer knew.  Now Von could become dangerous, to himself and to others.  If his heart was flawed, the weapon he made could be too.  Not exactly flawed, but filled with the same feelings and desires its maker was possessed of when the sword was forged.

Berkler’s excitement at the possibility of forging a blade with dragon steel was tempered by his apprehension for what Von may do.  He needed guidance, protection from himself.  Baiden did not understand this, how could he?  Baiden had no way of knowing what Von was dabbling with and Berkler never thought Von would actually be successful.  There was a possibility the
sword Von wielded had come from Haven keep, but too many people told the same story, that Von spent nearly four straight days locked in the forge with Corren and when he emerged he possessed the sword he now wore at his hip.  Berkler longed to hold that sword, to examine it, to confirm what he already knew for near certain.

Berkler could help Von, only Von would refuse his help.  Von was only interested in weapons and armor, implements for war, but the Dragon Lords used dragon steel for far more than just warfare.  If Von would only let him, the two of them could usher in a new age.  They could pool their knowledge as well as the knowledge Sem and Tyree held and create wonders men now considered fables.  Many in Asmark would think Berkler crazy, but they did not know what he did.  How could they?

Berkler saddled his horse.  He must find Von before he got himself killed or worse.

*
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