literature

Working title - 'Myrriddyon'

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Chapter 2

Master Ronan reclined in his chair, his legs flung out in front of him, and crossed at the ankle, giving the appearance of one totally at ease. As he puffed silently on his pipe however, his mind raced with all the possibilities for danger presented by High Master Callen’s proposed trip. As was his way, he remained respectfully quiet as she detailed the route she would be taking to Tyrenn. When she had finished however, he tamped out his pipe and laid it down beside him.

Callen had been waiting for this sign. She had known Ronan since the day he had come to the Myrriddyon almost fifty-three years ago, and was as familiar with his habits and mannerisms as she was with her own. Ronan was one of the Findaryn, a term given to those Myriddya whose gifts lay in the arts of tracking, and hunting. They were an odd group of men and women, who preffered a life away from the things of man. When not on an assignment, it was most common to find them in their forest, which lay two miles to the south of the keep. Callen fixed the man with a challenging stare. "You dissaggree with what I have suggested Ronan?"

"I do." he said simply.

Callen snorted in annoyance. Ronan could be eloquent when he wanted to be, but sometimes, getting him to speak more than three words in a day was like drawing blood from a stone. She trusted the man implicitely, but sometimes, his taciturn manner just plain infuriated her.

Calhavi, sensing her aunts frustration, stepped in at this point, saving Ronan from a blistering tirrade, which he would have simply allowed to wash over him anyway.

"Master Ronan," she began, and her calming tone belied the nervousness she felt at being stuck between his cold stone-like exterior, and her aunts seething, barely controlled frustration. "Would you please tell us why you dissaggree with High Master Callen’s projected route of travel."

Ronan picked up his pipe once more, refilled and relit it. Once this task was accomplished, he nodded in satisfaction, and began to speak. "I find nothing wrong with the route High Master Callen has suggested."

Callen snorted again. "Then what do you object to?" she demanded.

"The journey itself." he replied, his voice rumbling from the cloud of sweet smelling smoke that surrounded him. "With all respect Callen, your nephew is as rotten as every other male in your bloodline. He cannot be trusted."

"Hmph." Callen retorted. "Well at least we aggree on one thing Ronan. That is why I wanted you here. I have no choice but to attend Jarreyn’s funeral, and I intend to arrive there in one piece."

Ronan contemplated these words for a moment, and then stood, laying his pipe on the table once more. "Then summon Sevran to your chamber if you need protection. The Was’hendi are better suited to the task of babysitting your Vu’shen."

Callen rose to her feet, and Calhavi, sitting beside her winced as she felt her aunts power rise, called from her very being without word or potion. No longer did Callen look frail and tired. Her ninety-eight years faded away leaving a woman of fire and iron behind. Her arm raised, her finger pointed like a dagger at his breast. "Ronan." she thundered. "You go too far. The Vu’shen need no baby sitters. If you were not Myrriddya, I would show you just how well we can protect ourselves. We do not hide away like the Findaryn"

Ronan’s eyes flashed dangerously for a moment, and then softened as he began to laugh. He crossed the room and embraced Callen, surprising the old woman, and so totally confusing her, she did not know how to react. Without her rage as a channle, the power she had called faded back into her being, unspent.

"By the Gods Calli’, I’d forgotten how frightning you can be." he told her, still laughing.

Callen, still wrapped in his arms finally began to laugh too. "You’ve not called me that since you were a boy Ronan. Nor have you hugged me so tightly. Let go of this old woman before you crush her bones."

He released her, and she sat down again in her chair, feeling more than a little drained from the display of power, not that she would admit that to those present.

"Now," she continued. "Suppose you tell me what all that was about."

Ronan returned to his seat, picked up his pipe, and lit it again. "I’m sorry Callen." he told her. "Word had reached my ears that you were not what you once were. I had to find out for myself."

Calhavi could not believe her ears. The very information she had intended to pass on to this man, and to the other council members had already reached them from another source. After feeling Callen’s power, Calhavi was not so sure of her previous conclusion, and was glad it had not been her who had told them.

"Who would spread such lies?" Callen demanded. "I will admit that my eyes are a little weaker than they once were, but aside from that and a touch of pain in my bones, I am still quite capable of performing my duties."

"I do not doubt that Callen." Ronan said. "The rumour was being passed between the newlings. I think it gives them a feeling of courage to call the Myrriddya High Master a doddering old feeble-mind. I seem to recall saying some pretty ridiculous things about you myself when I was their age."

Callen nodded to herself, but she wasn’t easily fooled. The fact that he had taken the newlings bluster seriously meant that he had also had his doubts. She cast a quick glance at her niece, and wondered if she too had these doubts. Calhavi was after all, closer to her than any other soul in the Myrriddyon. She turned her attention back to Ronan. "And are you now quite satisfied that I am not loosing my mind, or my powers?"

"I don’t know." he said, but his tone was light and playful. "The fact that you are even considering this trip to Tyrenn has me a little unsure."

"Then what would you suggest?" she demanded. "That I stay at home and wait for Jarev to set up his armies outside my walls on the pretext that I had insulted him and his father?"

Ronan shook his head. "Of course not Callen. I would however reccomend that you take twenty from each of the Ways with you. Surrounding yourself with Myrriddya would be just as much a display of your power as it would be an adiquate escort for someone of your importance."

"And Jarev couldn’t complain." Calhavi jumped in. "How could he, when the Myrriddyon show so much respect for his late father."

Ronan sat forward. "Explain yourself girl." he demanded.

"Representatives from each of the Ways coming to mourn the passing of a king. Such a thing has never happened before. It would be seen as a great compliment to the Tyrennese royal house."

Callen shook her head. "My ties to Tyrenn are too close already, despite any ill will there has been between myself and my brother. Jarev has asked us to stay for the mourning time, which implies that we will be there when he is coronated. Having eighty Myrriddya at his coronation would be construed by the other monarchs as our open support for Jarev and his kingdom. Our neutrality is the very thing which keeps us in existence. If the other great kingdoms thought we were throwing in our lot with Jarev, we’d have twelve armies at our door, not just one."

Ronan scratched at his beard as he considered her logic. He could see this would be a knotted problem, but he would rather face the White Waters than let Callen walk into that vipers nest alone. "At least take an honor guard, as befits your status." he suggested. "Say twenty Myrriddya, five from each Way. That could hardly be seen as anything other than the escort of a royal sister, and High Master of the Myrriddyon paying her last respects."

"That would probably work." Calhavi comented. "The Monarchs are sure to bring more than twenty people each. When my mother died, I remember thinking that all the kingdoms had come to watch her enter the river."

Callen touched her nieces hand briefly, a rare display of familial affection. "Morren was much loved." she said simply, her voice soft, and filled with emotion.

Calhavi was touched by the old woman’s words, and even more so to see Ronan nodding in aggreement.

"So, it’s aggreed then." Ronan said finally. "I’ll advise Sevran and Talla of the situation, and organise your escort. I suggest you leave tomorrow morning. That should get you to Tyrenn in three days."

Callen sighed, finding no further fault with the plan. "Very well." she said. "Make the arrangements Ronan."

She turned to Calhavi. "See Master Ronan down the stairs please Calhavi, and then return to your studies. I’ll call for you if I need you."

"Yes Master." Calhavi replied, and led Ronan to the door. They walked down the winding staircase together in silence. At the bottom however, Calhavi turned to Ronan, and placed a hand upon his arm to stop him from continuing down the corridor.

"Master Ronan, will Rojen be one of the Findaryn you’ll select to come with us?" she asked, and blushed at his knowing grin.

"Oh ho." he said, chuckling. "So you’ve set an eye on my son have you?"

Calhavi blushed even deeper.

Ronan seemed to consider her for a moment. "It’s a good match." he said finally. "Although I never thought to have royal blood allied with my family. Not that it matters of course."

Calhavi knew what he meant. Upon entering the keep, she had renounced all claim she held to the Tyrennese throne, leaving her cousins Jarev, and his younger brothen Jovyan as the only heirs. This had guarenteed a son of Jarreyn would be the next king, not that her claim would have made any difference to that fact. As a woman, and the daughter of Jarreyn’s youngest sister, she was far down the line of succession. Even Callen would be considered for the role before she would be. She had thought her entry into the Myrriddyon had been a wise move. Callen had certainly convinced her of that, but it had infuriated her uncle, for reasons she had never been told.

"Well, Rojen returned from Feoria last week. He’s had enough rest, so I don’t see why he can’t be added to Callen’s retinue. I certainly wouldn’t want him to grow roots from inactivity."

Calhavi grinned at Ronan’s joke, and thanked him for his assistance.

The tall man mearly chuckled again, and went away down the corridor.



In her chamber, Callen lay wearily on her bed. Her earlier display of power had cost her much more than she had initially thought. Towards the end of her conversation with Ronan and Calhavi, it had been all she could do to keep the returning pain from her face and voice. She could feel the aching pain wrapping around her bones with a vengeance.

With a shaking, stiff hand, Callen withdrew a bottle from her bedside table and pulled the stopper free. She poured a liberal measure of the yellow liquid it contained into the glass which rested on the table.

Drinking down the potion, Callen sighed with relief as she felt it take effect, soothing her body, relieving her of some of her crippling agony. Finally able to relax a little, Callen lay back, and drifted off to sleep.
The second chapter of my latest work. Still without a title I'm afraid. I have a further two chapters written, and may post them at a later date.
© 2006 - 2024 Wandering-Lemming
Comments12
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yukikousagi's avatar
I really like the pacing of this story so far. I'm being drawn further into this world as you introduce more characters, and more elements to the world in which they live. Not so fast that I'm left confused, but not so slow that I'm bored. My interest is definitely piqued! I want to know more about the Myrriddyon "ways". It sounds to me like there are the wizard and ranger types so far, and probably warriors? This might make for an excellent D&D campaign setting. :D