Raven Warrior.

By Deborah Frances House.

Contents.

                        Chapter 1 Demetri at War

                        Chapter 2 The Secret Pool

                        Chapter 3 To The Summer Palace

                        Chapter 4 Lady Sage and the Dark Spell

                        Chapter 5 The Glade in Londonatis

                        Chapter 6 Honeybee on The Thermals of Love

                        Chapter 7

                        Diana and Celeste in the Purple Haze

                        Chapter 8 The Yellow Maiden

                        Chapter 9 The Ravens

                        Chapter 10 The Ravens join the War

                        Chapter 11 Lady sage and Eve of Orion

                        Chapter 12 Daki and Lars in Hyde Park

                        Chapter 13 the Strangest Thing of All.

Chapter 1.  Demetri at War.

Blooded from battle, hardly identifying the pain, adrenaline was coursing through his hot veins. Not his sword arm, thank the stars.

Prince Demetri lay back exhausted on his hard, unforgiving, military camp bed. Bright pennant flags in his burgundy colours were furling atop of his circular tent.

            “The devil won the day,” he said to Benedict. 

            “Aye , the black hearted Lord Ivy has pushed us into the dark caverns of cruelty where no man wanted to go,” Benedict raised his voice angrily.

            “Burn his tainted soul!” he exclaimed spitting out his words. 

In truth, Demetri and Benedict well knew how fast a man could be dispatched because they were trained Knights and killers themselves. They had played at being Knights and archers since they were boys, little knowing that to look a man in the eye and run him through with your sword holds no delight, just the blood and muscle of another creature screaming to its agonized end. To stand behind the banners of their Kings and save their country folk was their duty, but a traumatic duty it was. They were both excellent strategists and delegated with wisdom despite their youth. Their sergeants at arms led fighting bands who were well trained in the art of ambush behind enemy lines.

Lord Ivy had amassed a sizable army, many were mercenaries and their loyalty came into question when their backs were against the wall. His archers were his main strength and he knew how to command them. Through some skill and more luck Demetri and Benedict were still alive at the end of this bloody day. The lay of the land had been in their favour, the rivers, hills and patches woodland meant that their men could fight with some cover and attack in skirmishes. A division of Elvish archers were assigned to Demetri, he had trained with them all. He hoped his father would join him with more men. King Alchemela was currently gathering troops from The Rynelands and King Mallus would bring men from the Western Farm lands. The two young knights must hold back the approach of Lord Ivy’s army till then. 

Filthy from the field and starving hungry, Benedict stood, still seething with rage. Demetri staggered to his feet and clenched his bandaged wound. They breathed in the smoky air of the throbbing, muttering camp at night. There was no sweet smell, no sense of home. In the dark they could pick out exhausted, dirty faces; men cleaning their weapons, patching up their boots, checking the animals and hunching over fires sitting full in the smoke, they didn't care, they had been in hell that day. 

They stood with the others waiting in a resolute line for food, praising their comrades as they waited. They forced themselves to look upright and strong; men needed to have faith in their leaders. Back in the tent they noisily devoured their dinner, hardly chewing, just forcing it down, glugging great draughts of dark, strong wine until the large jug was finished. They stared at the charts in the light of a burning torch and managed to make a few important decisions. Then with the camp slowly quietening down and the horses making more settled noises they fell into fitful, nightmarish sleep and did not even have the energy to think what tomorrow might bring. 

The morn brought a beam of light through the tent into Demetri’s eye. For a moment he almost heard Genia’s soft murmurings from the days before. But no. He knew only too well where he was. For all the diplomacy and careful management of the lands and people, the Queens, Kings, Lords and leaders had always tried to use fairy lore to promote peace. The treaties existed so that battle was only a last desperate resort. It should never be fought on the sacred chalk fields of their ancestors, yet now Lord Ivy of North Screefell was breaking the peace that had lasted for hundreds of years. He had become greedy. He ruled badly and his population was ill at ease. His mismanagement of food production and trade routes had left many hungry and now, instead of ruling with his wicked head he was attempting to take what was not his.

            To invade the peaceful Ryne Lands and The Western Farm Lands meant that Ivy could attempt to take by force all that they had carefully and peacefully managed for many generations. The people had never known war even though King Mallus of The Farm Lands had an uneasy peace with the leaders of the Flatlands, beyond the Wall of Destiny. It was an ancient division between east and west. Originally the wall was nothing but an earth work stretching between their borders to keep out raiding Easterners. Eventually when the raids had become more troublesome a wall had been built upon the earth and had remained for three hundred years. The Easterners had long since given up raiding, the Westerners barely guarded it and some trade passed across the checkpoints. King Mallus hoped that in time the wall would come down and a lasting peace could be struck but now, if Lord Ivy were to find an ally in the East he could attack King Mallus’ land from that approach. The only thing to do was to finish off the war in The Ryne lands. Ivy had crept his way down between Golden Stronghill and The Highlands via the Pass. He had emerged below the Great Lakes and was ready to kill. He had come south through the Deep Pass, where barely a soul travelled, and had arrived at the chalk fields unnoticed except for wild cattle, horses and deer on which his army had fed. Now they were face to face with the enemy with only the remaining prospect of blood to be spilled.

                        The next day’s fighting proved to be no easier and rest could not come soon enough. Face down in the rough camp bed Demetri entered the mysterious world of sleep. The exhaustion of battle, the pain of the wound had used the last of his energy. Now he was transported into the far off world of dreams. 

            Benedict was tossing and turning in his bed on the other side of their tent. Grunting and occasionally shouting out, he was dreaming of the battle field. Demetri was in a much more tranquil world. 

            Transported back by all the love in his heart for Genia, he was with her again. Not as they were now, or had been a few days ago before their marriage was abruptly cancelled because of the war, but transported back to when she was just sixteen and he was the eighteen year old Prince of The Ryne Lands. 

            Before Demetri and Benedict left for university they had been to King Mallus’ Summer Palace in the soft rolling countryside in the south of The Western Farmlands. They had been there every year since Demetri could remember, mostly in the bright spring or drowsy days of hot summers. Demetri’s father, King Alchemela and his mother, Queen Papava, left their trusted lords in charge of the Ryne lands and visited their dearest and oldest friends and allies King Mallus The Fair and his wife Queen Rosemary of Ryne.

Demetri and Benedict had grown up with the Princess Genia and her friends. They all had many year-round duties in their separate realms but the summer months were times of great festivities and celebrations. It was a time to revere, respect and join together in the joy of Greta-Rosetta, the Goddess of the Universal Realm. The Goddess celebrations were full of intense joy and shared wisdom about their world. 

The continent of Grieglands basked in the Sea of Par. The small, south westerly tip of Greiglands and was composed of The Reedland Rides, North Screefell and The Ryne Lands. Beside them lay The Western Farmlands and The Southern Coastal Lands. Beyond the wall The Eastern Flatlands drifted on for miles.

Greta-Rosetta was universally acknowledged as the benevolent Goddess who sees all. A shapeless entity, she is present in all times, but is not always accessible. The great goddess moves through many universes which the Greiglanders do not see, but very occasionally a clue of their existence is revealed to those who understand these things. She has seen the waves of space, the event horizons, she alone fully understands the arrow of time. 

The uplifting joy that all the youngsters felt when they arrived at the summer palace was always tremendous. After many hours of journeying they would surely be tired, but as soon as they started to see familiar signs that they were nearing the Palace Fields they would all light up, become excited and start eagerly straining to be the first to see the High Hill where the palace stood.

“I can see the Tor!” they would shout.

 The Palace on the hill overlooked the great Tor and on a good day they would walk over to the mound and climb its high sides. 

Atop of the mound is a strong tower with decorated stonework covered in glorious paint. On close inspection they could see that on every side of the Goddess Tower are carvings showing the symbolic scenes of Greta-Rosetta amongst planets and stars. Around these are scenes of her Sprites eternally riding the waves of space. Her bird messengers fly amongst the great trees that grow above and below land. The birds swirl around the tower's carvings and dive into painted rivers and streams. At the bottom of the tower are depicted The Keepers who care for the birds of the land, and The glovers who tend to all the birds of prey. 

On the painted trees sit the Swarles. In real life these beautiful people are half human and half sprite. They have long dexterous fingers, the eyes of a sparrowhawk and they commune with the birds. The birds tell them all that is good in nature and in turn the Swarles, fine Silversmiths, recreate the natural world in silver at the workshops of King Mallus’ palace. The workshops have huge, radiant windows opening out onto old wooden and silver perches, here birds of all types alight to eat and chatter to the Swarles while they work their craft. These lovely folk look after the little Moonflower Sprite, Lollie, who sits at a tiny desk on one of their benches. She lunches on little bowls of nectar and chatters away busily with her tiny sprite friends. She was born from a Periwinkle flower and is very industrious and happy. Sometimes she will hitch a ride on the back of a songbird to see the hedgerows from above where her many cousins live. That is why we must be very careful to look after hedgerows so that we do not disturb the homes of the Moonflower Sprites who live in the periwinkles that bloom abundantly. They marry each other but do not give birth like humans, the male and female sprites settle down to sleep together in a cosy flower and when the sun comes up their baby will be there. 

 The most beautiful carving of all near the top of the Goddess Tower is of the original Silver Pear Tree. It bestowed the gift of all life from the stars to Greiglands and the planet on which it turns. Greta-Rosetta sought out a wonderful world to plant her tree and give life to everything. 

However all is not beauty on the Goddess Tower. At the foot of the East side which faces the dawn is an extremely old, oak door carved by the carpenters and Woodsmen of Golden Stronghill. On the western side of the tower is a stained glass window which sheds coloured light into the tower at sunset. The south of the tower is covered with scenes of the Par Sea towards which it faces. The north side is a different story. Partially hidden by moss and lichen is the figure of a Troll, sitting on a black stump. He holds a short axe in one hand and in the other the bone of a Horn’ed Grimsander. His feet are surrounded by bones and skulls with dead wheat sticking out of the ground between them. This image has often been forgotten and folk do not care to gaze upon it, but it exists nevertheless. 

Turning uncomfortably in his bed, but not coming to, Demetri craves more images of his beloved Genia and he is not disappointed. He remembers the day when they had left their friends in the palace fields and had walked quite far into the cool woodland. They rested by a soft stream of creamy fresh water and had drunk there. He was sitting on a rock with his feet in the water and Genia was paddling and peering down into the shallows. Her red hair fell down one side of her head. She half curled her dimpled mouth up at the side in a soft smile as she watched a minnow sliding back and forth, back and forth. She had tied up her long, green cotton dress around her waist to keep it dry and he could see her strong legs planted in the cool water which ran around her feet. The stream shone with dancing lights that were reflected back upon her smiling face. Her lovely skin was pink and warm with the hot sun.

“ Genia, would you like to sit on this fine rock with me?”

 She tilted her bright green eyes up to him and tiptoed ashore. She clambered up beside him and as usual sat very close to him. 

“ I do not think you are my friend anymore,” he sighed. She looked up into his dark eyes.

“Are you going to start teasing me?”

“No. You cannot be my friend because I know that you are my love.”

He gently put his arm around her waist and just let it lie there ever so softly. She could not look into his face and sat in complete silence, but she did not draw away. Genia did not know what to say and was afraid she would say something silly so she tenderly reached out and held his hand. Genia and Demetri were flooded with the joy of desire and happiness. They were completely full up with each other’s senses. They sat there for a very long time and were intoxicated by each other. Their friendship had changed forever. 

As the evening cooled they started the long walk back to the palace, they barely spoke and still held hands, they helped each other through the soft woodland floor surrounded by the birds’ even-song. It was as if the air was made sweeter, the birds were singing to the strains of woodland harps, and little streams bubbled along, tinkling as they went. Tiny flowers turned their heads to Genia and Demetri as if they were, themselves, the setting sun. Cascades of dripping bougainvillea, clematis and honeysuckle decorated their way with fragrant perfumes that had never before smelled so fresh and sweet. As the neared the fields Demetri spoke.

            “ I know that my love for you shall be constant. I do not want you to say anything definite yet because one day you shall be Queen after your father’s reign. Many suitors who will come to court you, and by the time we have both finished University you may have a different view of the world. But know this Genia that there is nothing in time or space that can separate my love from thee.”

She nodded. She wanted to deny that any change might affect her feelings of love which now burst through her chest. Demetri had always been wise and thoughtful and she would listen to him now as he had always given her good advice. He knew from her face that she was considering this carefully.

As they came to the edge of the wood they released their hands and walked up to the palace slightly apart. What a fuss their friends made of this! Usually the pair would be cavorting around, pushing each other and laughing. Sometimes Demetri would have carried Genia on his back and shouted at her not to squeeze his neck! But not today. Today they had put childish things aside and were very aware of their actions. They did not want to betray their secret. They approached their friends who were still sprawled in the last of the day’s sun. 

            “Come on you two,” said Honeybee as she stood up from the slightly damp grass. 

            “We’re late for supper. By Greta you both look serious. Better be no arguing now!”

            An intimate glance darted between Demetri and Genia. They smiled as they normally would.

            “Race you!” shouted Demetri.

            They all scampered up, hurriedly gathered their things and charged back to the palace out of breath for supper. As Genia entered the great hall her mother touched her on the arm warmly and noticed her flushed face. She saw that her daughter’s bright eyes were turned to the ground. 

            “ Not like you to be shy darling!” She squeezed her.

            Queen Rosemary’s eyes darted to Demetri who was striding most forcefully towards Benedict and his fellow chaps. 

            “Come on men, pour the wine I've been too long in the woods without sustenance!”

            He was lying of course, as he had never felt so blood-boilingly sustained! He laughed abnormally jovially and even his father looked over at him. King Alchemela caught Queen Rosemary’s eye and they both looked up to the heavens and smiled broadly. 

            Before Demetri knew it, the years had passed and their wedding day had arrived. He was waiting at King Mallus’ castle with a thumping heart for Genia to return from the secret pool with the other women. In his dream he had been transported back to happier times.