Book III

The Prophecy

Chapter Five

            Early morning mist still shrouded the forest in a veil of white, as Torren approached the armory of Ravenswood Castle. The three story structure was built with grey stone and located directly west of the fortress. The first floor of the arsenal was a blacksmith shop. Large windows, with iron bars instead of glass, were spaced evenly along the walls of the shop. The barred windows allowed the heat of the forges to escape, without allowing the creatures from the surrounding woods to find their way inside.

            The upper floors of the building had become a barracks and common room to house and feed clansmen who could not afford their own home. Torren was told that he would be welcome to stay in the armory barracks if he chose to.

Torren followed Lord Augustus’ servant into the first floor of the arsenal. Three large forges and several anvils were placed against the back and side walls for the blacksmiths to use.

The tall, plain faced man, they called Roscoe, led Torren passed the other blacksmiths; stopping beside a large forge on the northeast side of the room.

“This will be your work area.” Roscoe said, indicating the clean, well organized corner “You are required to keep this space exactly as you find it now.”

Torren nodded. The fragrant breeze, from the forest outside, blew through a barred window. Sunshine cast soft shadows on the stone floor and the distant roar of a bear could be heard. This place was unlike any blacksmith shop Torren had ever worked in before. The arsenal of Ravenswood was a veritable paradise compared to his own small tower. It was a palace in contrast to the hovel of his childhood work place; Kahan’s blacksmith shop.

 Again, Torren felt regret that his time here would be short.

Roscoe’s voice interrupted Torren’s thoughts “Lady Regina requests that you create an axe of exceptional quality for her cousin, Lord Michael. An axe which she plans to use as a reward for a challenge well met.”

Torren began to unpack is tools “I will start work on the axe at once.” he told Roscoe.

The servant stood watching Torren for a moment longer and then said with a smile “Welcome to Ravenswood, son.”

Without waiting for a reply, Roscoe turned and left the armory. Torren watched as he disappeared through the wide doors of the building. The servant had sounded sincere in his welcome.

“How strange” Torren muttered, before starting work on the axe.

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            A blue moongate opened near the steps of Seamus and Amanda’s home, Mountain View. Seamus emerged from the portal, followed by his wife, Amanda Rose. Close upon her heels came Bronson, Jeanne, Shana and the warrior from Ravenswood, Dominic.

            The party was returning to Malas after an early morning hunt in the dungeon Doom. Last night, at the feast for Lord Augustus, Seamus had invited several members of Ravenswood’s clan to join him in a battle against the Dark Fathers. The Ravenswood clansmen, with the exception of Dominic, had already returned to their homes, outside of Britain, after the hunt.

Seamus led the way up the steps of the house, to the front door. Once inside the entrance hall, the party continued through the cavernous reception room to the stairs leading up to the second floor dining hall.

            But as Shana started to follow her family, she felt strong arms encircling her from behind. She stifled a giggle as Dominic pulled her into an alcove just outside of Seamus’ study. The warrior turned Shana in his embrace and captured her lips in a slow kiss.

Raising his head slightly, Dominic whispered “Finally, a moment alone.” before kissing her again. Shana wound her arms around his neck as their kiss deepened.

“Excuse me, lass” said a gruff voice “but I would like a word with Dominic.”

The couple looked up to find Seamus, once again, interrupting their romantic interlude. Dominic chuckled as he slowly released his lady. Blushing profusely, Shana moved out of Dominic’s embrace and brushed by Seamus.

“I will wait for you in the dining hall.” Shana said, blowing a kiss to the handsome warrior. She disappeared down the corridor leading to the stairs; leaving the two men alone.

The love drunk grin on Dominic’s face made Seamus smile “You had best marry the lass soon. As I always say, when something is right, you just know it.”

“I thought to wait at least a week before asking her, Seamus.” Dominic replied with a grin “But if you think it wise to marry tomorrow, I will heed the voice of experience.”

“You are both old enough to know your own hearts. But it is not Shana that I wish to discuss with you, now.” Seamus told Dominic, as he entered the doorway to his study.

He motioned for Dominic to enter his study. The large room was filled with books and artifacts, which the treasure hunter had collected over the years. At Seamus’ direction, Dominic pulled a chair from the corner of the room and placed it beside a desk.

“Does this have anything to do with my new blacksmith?” Dominic asked, settling into the chair.

“Aye” Seamus said, taking a leather bound book from a shelf and carrying it to his desk “You may wish to know the story of Fairwynds, since your family has taken Torren under its wing; so to speak.”

“How can you be sure that Torren is the heir of this kingdom of Fairwynds?” Dominic asked.

“I once paid ten gold pieces to see him.” Seamus replied, sitting behind his desk.

“I do not understand, Seamus” a frown creased Dominic’s brow “You paid to see Torren?”

“Aye. It was about ten years ago, in a smith shop just outside of Trinsic, Trammel. I was shopping for a shield and the proprietor, a man named Kahan, offered to show me the cursed heir to the kingdom of Fairwynds for the price of ten gold pieces.” Seamus explained “I must admit that I was curious to see if such a man existed, so I paid him the gold. He took me into his filthy little shop and pointed to a tall, dark haired youth. Kahan called him Torren, and the boy had the same distinct features as your blacksmith.”  Seamus shook his head “I should have taken the lad away from that man, bought him with gold, if need be. But I was busy with my own life and did not think to interfere with Kahan’s household. So I went on my way and never gave the poor boy another though, until last night.”

“How did Torren come to be with this Kahan?” Dominic questioned.

“Kahan boasted that he was given the lad to foster. He claimed that the Lord of Fairwynds wanted to be rid of his deformed son.” Seamus answered “I did not question the story at the time. As I have told you, I was busy with my life, and did not think to interfere.”

“So what else do you know about Fairwynds?” Dominic nodded towards the book on Seamus’s desk.

Seamus opened the book and began to thumb through the yellowed pages “Not much is known about the recent history of the island. Long ago Fairwynds was a sailing crossroads between the seas of Britain, Felucca and the oceans of the New Lands.”

“Fairwynds is an island?” Dominic asked, leaning forward to inspect the pages of Seamus’ book.

“Aye, it is located near the Serpent Pillars in the sea north of Yew.” Seamus stopped turning the pages and said “Ah, here it is. The ancient Lord of Fairwynds, Doracron, used powerful magic to create a passage in the sea to the New Lands. Lord Doracron constructed the Serpent Pillars to mark the spot and set his own name as the spell to evoke the magic transport through the passage.”

Seamus paused and directed Dominic’s attention to the globe beside his desk “As you can see” he said pointing to the sea southwest of Skara Brae “Fairwynds is only a few miles from the Serpent Pillars.”

Dominic nodded “Lord Doracron was a very clever man.”

“Aye, a clever man, indeed. When word spread that a ship could sail between the two worlds, the Isle of Fairwynds and the Serpent Pillars became a destination to sailors throughout the lands.”

Seamus looked up at Dominic with a smile “My father and grandfather took me there when I was just a boy. Fairwynds was a thriving city then. A market place for treasures brought in from the New Lands. The tidal wave of trade made the descendants of Lord Doracron wealthy and powerful.”

“But eventually the continents of Trammel were discovered. Thousands flooded into the new peaceful land, looking for an escape from the murderous hordes of brigands who inhabited Felucca. The trade route of the Serpent Pillars became an antiquated form of travel in a desolate sea.”

“The present ruler, Lord Daegan, wanted to bring the merchants back to Fairwynds by making a passage into the Land of Malas.  He must have calculated that his best chance of obtaining the kind of wealth and glory that his great grandfather, Doracron, had achieved was to make that passage into the Doom Gauntlet.”

Seamus sat back in his chair and closed the book “Apparently, Lord Daegan succeeded in bringing down upon himself, and his family, the wrath of the Gods. It is not known what evil he unleashed in his quest for wealth. But the island of Fairwynds is, to this day, cursed. And Daegan’s heir carries the mark of that curse.”

“You mean Torren is not a half breed?” Dominic asked.

“Nay, his parents were both human. But the man was somehow marked at birth with the features of the Dark Fathers’ closest guardian.” Seamus glanced over at Dominic’s stunned face “Tell me, did you see any creature in the gauntlet today that bore a striking resemblance to your new blacksmith?”

Dominic sat in silence, remembering each monster he had slain to complete the dungeon crawl. Suddenly in his mind’s eye he saw the face of Torren. The pitch black eyes; slanted upward in the corners. He saw the wide shoulders and massive size of the man. No, Torren did not carry the traits of any living elf or orc; but the features of an undead creature bound to the darkness of Doom.

A Shadow Lord.

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Regina stood in the wide doorway of Ravenswood’s armory and watched Torren working at his forge. She had just returned from the Ice Dungeon, where she had guided a group of young Ravenswood warriors through the rigors of an attack on the Rat Fortress.  Although she was dirty and tired, Regina decided to check in on Torren before heading home for dinner. The new blacksmith was her responsibility, she reasoned, and therefore he was under her protection.

But as she stood watching the play of muscle across Torren’s back and arms, Regina was not sure that he needed the protection of anyone. He was, indeed, the most powerful looking man she had ever seen. She felt hypnotized by the display of pure male strength, as Torren hammered away on an unfinished weapon. The sun was setting and the shadows only accentuated the ripple of sinew beneath smooth bronzed skin.

A flutter of movement drew her gaze to the barred window beside Torren’s forge. Long ears twitched and a dark nose sniffed through the bars; causing the blacksmith to stop work and place his hammer to one side. From a pack, which was hanging on a peg near the forge, Torren produced a shiny, red apple. The fruit was dwarfed by the size of his hand, as he held it out to the searching nose of a hind. The gentle deer lipped the treat from his palm with trembling greed. The hind stood perfectly still for a moment, with the apple in her mouth; her ears turning in Regina’s direction. Then, in the blink of an eye, the hind was gone.

Torren picked up his hammer, and without bothering to glance around, called out “Good evening, my lady.”  He brought the hammer down upon the anvil with a resounding clang.

Feeling a faint blush creep up her neck at being caught spying upon this man, Regina moved into the room “I am sorry to have frightened off your pet, Torren.”

“She is no man’s pet.” he answered, still hammering “And the hind will be back soon enough.”

Regina stopped beside the forge, gazing out the window at the deepening dusk “She has been here before?”

“Aye. Twice today.” Torren told her simply. He continued beating the metal into the shape of a double sided axe.

“Is that the axe I requested for Michael?” Regina asked, moving closer.

“Aye” his hammer clanged again.

Slightly frustrated by Torren’s economy of words, Regina sighed. Without further comment, she continued to watch him create Michael’s axe. The evening breeze blew in through the bars, bringing with it the scent of oak and pine; fresh forest air, touched with a hint of rain. Regina settled onto a high stool by the window; her back resting against the warm stone of the wall. She closed her eyes and listened to the rhythm of the blacksmith’s hammer and the wind playing in the in the leaves of an oak tree.  After a day spent in battle, Torren’s quiet strength and the peace of the forest were like a balm to Regina’s spirit.

“It is nice here in the evening” Regina said, opening one eye.

“Aye” the hammer continued to clang.

For the better part of an hour the two remained thus; silently enjoying each other’s company and the advancing night. The other black smiths packed up their tools, and bid Regina good evening, before heading home to their families. Soon, only Torren and Regina remained.

Regina studied Torren from beneath her lashes. The smith had tied his black, shoulder length hair at the nape of his neck with a strip of leather. Regardless of his alien features, Torren was quite handsome, Regina thought. The strong chiseled line of his jaw, taut cheeks and aquiline nose, combined to make a visage that any maiden would appreciate. Again, she wondered about this man’s past. Torren had the strength of an ogre, and yet, he could befriend a hind.

Finally, it was Torren who broke the spell. He cease hammering and turned his gaze upon Regina. His voice, when he spoke, was deep and solemn “Thank you, my lady, for arranging this position for me. Ravenswood arsenal is, by far, the best smith shop I have ever worked in.”

A smile crept across Regina’s face. She felt a thrill of satisfaction that she had pleased him “You are most welcome, Torren.”

Torren gave a curt nod of his head and set to work on the axe, once more. Regina, still smiling, rose from her stool and walked to the doorway of the arsenal. She turned to look back at the muscular young man by the forge.

“Good night, Torren.” she called softly, before heading in the direction of the fortress.

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Thoughts of Torren filled Regina’s mind as she bathed and dressed for dinner. The serenity which she had experienced beside him in the smith shop, had settled around her heart. Regina was still smiling as she made her way down the stairs to her parents’ private rooms on the second floor. Upon entering the sitting room, where the family would share the evening meal, she was surprised to hear Torren being discussed.

“Torren is the son of Lord Daegan?” Augustus was asking Dominic “How could that be?”

“According to Lord Seamus, he is the heir to the island kingdom of Fairwynds” Dominic answered, reaching across the table for a portion of beef.

“Lord Daegan?” Lady Loria asked “Did he not marry the daughter of a rich merchant from Vesper. I can not recall her name.”

“Honora. Lady Honora.” Augustus informed his wife “I met Lord Daegan during the Trinsic wars. We were both young men, following our fathers into battle for the first time.” he sat back in his chair and stared into the hearth “We were garrisoned just outside the gates of Trinsic for nearly a month. Each day we struggled to drive the undead invaders from the city. Lord Daegan saved my life many times.” Augustus smiled “And I managed to save his a time or two.”

Regina slid into her chair, transfixed by the tale she was hearing. Torren was the son of a Lord? A man her father knew well?

“It was in Trinsic that we met Lady Honora.” Augustus continued “She was a lovely young lass with golden hair and skin like fresh cream. An archer, if I remember correctly; very skilled. Daegan was completely captivated by her” he chuckled “As I recall, the lady would have no other knight but Daegan by her side in battle.”

“So Torren is their son?” Regina cautiously asked “The son of two humans?”

“Aye” Dominic answered “Lord Seamus believes that Torren is not a half breed at all. But a man marked by a curse; a curse which Daegan brought upon his family. Lord Daegan tried to create a passage into the Doom Gauntlet in his quest for riches. It is not clear whether or not he succeeded, but his son bears the features of a Shadow Lord as punishment from the Gods.”

Her mind reeling; Regina gasped “A Shadow Lord?”

“Aye” Dominic said “Look closely at Torren, and you will see the resemblance, Gina.”

Augustus shook his head sadly “Who would have guessed that such an old and illustrious family would be destroyed by greed.”

“But what of the Lady Honora?” Loria asked “What has become of her?”

“Not much that is known about the island of Fairwynds or the family who rules it now. Torren was sent away as a young boy and Lady Honora seems to have vanished.” Dominic told his mother “Apparently, the entire kingdom is so possessed by evil that one can not use a marked recall rune to travel to Fairwynds. The only way to set foot upon the shores of the cursed place is to sail there by ship. And few care to venture on such a journey.”

Regina was stunned. Torren was, by birthright, a Lord of the Realm. His face and form were marked by a curse which his own father had somehow brought upon him. Now he was forced to earn his living as a blacksmith for the clan of Ravenswood.

“Torren must have family on his mother’s side.” Augustus surmised “I believe Honora’s father was Lord Brian of The Vesper Merchants guild in Felucca.”

Regina sat forward in her chair “I will take Torren and search the area tomorrow for anyone who might...”

“No!” Lady Loria exclaimed “Regina you must stay away from this man!”

“Mother, what are you saying?” Regina asked.

Lady Loria glanced at her husband before speaking “I am sorry, my dear, but the Tarot cards have warned me of this man; this dark stranger. I have had a premonition of danger, to you Regina, should you let this Torren into your life.”

“Mother, no.” Regina breathed in disbelief.

“I shall go to Vesper, Felucca.” Dominic intervened “and search for his family. Perhaps Lord Seamus will assist me in finding Torren’s kin.”

Regina was silent. Her mother had always relied upon the Tarot cards to warn the family of danger. If they had foretold of a potential threat then Loria would expect Regina to heed the warning.

But Regina felt no fear of Torren. He was a quiet, gentle man who had suffered great hardship. It was a difficult decision, for Regina had never gone against Lady Loria’s wishes before. But, in her heart, Regina knew that she could not turn her back on Torren.  Aye, she would help him despite the ominous warning of her mother’s Tarot cards.

And what of the Golden Skye? Regina thought. What part did the holy weapon play in the curse which plagued Torren?

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Torren had been assigned a very small chamber, with an even smaller bed, on the third floor of the arsenal. Unable to comfortably fit his large frame onto the bed, Torren decided to spend his first night at Ravenswood, sleeping on the floor. Taking the blanket and pillow from the bed, he arranged them on the floorboards between the bed and the door.

An excellent dinner had been served in the common room of the barracks. Torren had eaten several helpings of the beef stew and fresh bread, along side half a dozen other new arrivals at Ravenswood. The facility also offered a tub for bathing, and Torren had made use of it before going to his room for the night.

He sprawled upon his makeshift bed and closed his eyes. A rare smile curved Torren’s lips as he pictured, in his mind, Regina, dressed in red female armor, perched upon a stool beside the forge. A dark smug of dirt, across her cheek, had only added to her appeal. Why she had lingered there, quietly keeping him company, he could not say. But Torren hoped that she would return, for the same mysterious reason, on the morrow.

His first day a Ravenswood had gone exceptionally well. Everyone, he had met, treated him with respect and kindness. Despite Torren’s strange appearance, it seemed that he would be accepted as one of the clan. Soon he drifted off to sleep, thinking of a lovely face, framed by soft, dark hair.  

Aye, Ravenswood was paradise, indeed.

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Torren was awakened by the sound of someone softly tapping upon the wooden door of his room. He lay there listening; unsure if he were dreaming. The tapping came again, and this time a muffled voice called “Torren. It is Regina, let me in.”

Catapulting off the floor, Torren grabbed his pants and hastened to put them on. He crashed against the door, as he struggled to move across the room and dress himself at the same time “A moment please, my lady” he said, leaning on the door. Torren reached into his pack and pulled out the first shirt that his hand came in contact with. Shrugging into it, he once again pressed his cheek to the door and said “A moment more.”

“Please hurry!” her harsh whisper held a touch of desperation.

Turning the door knob and pulling the door open a few inches Torren peered out into the dimly lit hallway “My lady! What brings you…”

Regina, dressed in a black hooded cloak, pushed the door open and swept into the room “Close the door!” she commanded softly “No one must see me here.”

Torren complied immediately. He stood with his back against the door, watching as Regina made her way to his unused, under sized bed, and sat upon it like a queen ascending to her throne.  Moonlight from a tiny window dimly lit the room.

 “Excuse the lateness of the hour, Torren. But it was necessary that I speak to you tonight.” She pushed the hood back from her head and looked around “This chamber seems a bit small for a man your size.” Regina said, with a smile.

“It is very cozy” he told her.

“Cozy for a dwarf, perhaps” Regina laughed, as she turned back to face him. The smile left Regina’s face as her eyes fell to the front of Torren’s open shirt. She stared at the wide expanse of furred chest, which the unbuttoned shirt left exposed; seeming to have forgotten the reason for her visit.

Torren, upon seeing the direction of her gaze, hastily button his shirt to the neck “Pardon me, my lady. You caught me sleeping” he mumbled.

Her dimpled smile returned “I should hope so. It is, after all, the middle of the night.”

 Torren grunted his agreement.

“I am very sorry to have awakened you, Torren” Regina whispered her apology “But I must speak to you about the Golden Skye.”

Torren moved away from the door and settled, cross legged, upon the floor near Regina’s feet “What is it you wish to know?”

“What is the purpose of the Golden Skye?” Regina asked, as she reached beneath her cloak and drew the glowing katana from its sheath. Before Torren could form an answer, Reigina continued “I know who you are. My brother brought word to my family this night that you are the heir to the kingdom of Fairwynds.”

Torren’s eyes narrowed “What else did he tell you.”

“That your homeland is cursed.” Regina whispered “That you were sent away, as a child, to live with a blacksmith in Trinsic” she leaned forward and placed her hand upon his shoulder “That you are marked by the curse of your own father’s greed.”

Abruptly, Torren stood up. He moved to a small table, by the bed, and lit a candle. Then going to a chest in the corner of the room, he opened it and withdrew two scrolls “My lady, you may know more about me, than I know of myself.” Torren said, as he returned to his seat on the floor.

He handed her a scroll, which was yellowed with age “I was given this, by a Seer, when I was just a boy.”

Regina unrolled the scroll and looked at it “I can not read this, for it is written in runic script.” she told him, handing the scroll back.

Torren gave her the second scroll “Here is the translation. It is a prophecy. I was told that I would find my destiny when it is fulfilled.”

Regina took the scroll and unrolled it. Her eyes carefully traveled across the page. “A maiden with beauty which shines like the stars in the night will he find” she read this line out loud, then paused to look up at Torren. He solemnly nodded his head as she searched his face for the truth. Regina returned to her reading.

When she had finished reading, Regina lowered the scroll to her lap and stared at Torren “You believe that I am the woman who can lift the curse of Daegan’s greed?”

Torren nodded again “Aye.”

“Then we must leave immediately.” Regina said, standing up and sliding the holy weapon back into its sheath “My family will never permit to me to accompany you if they should discover our plans.”

Torren rose from the floor to tower above Regina “It would ease my mind considerably, if I could discover our plans.” he told her, folding his massive arms over his chest.

Regina pulled the hood of her cloak back up over her head and slung her pack across her back. “I should think it would be obvious. There is only one way to fulfill the prophecy and, thereby, bring you to your destiny.”

She gave Torren a dimpled smile “We must go to the isle of Fairwynds, Lord Torren.”

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