Raven's Shadow 01 - Blood Song

“Then your apology is as empty as your heart, Northman. And my hatred is undimmed.”

 

 

They found a vessel from the Northern Reaches for Al Sorna, ships from the Unified Realm’s northmost holdings apparently enjoy rights of anchorage in Meldenean waters denied their countrymen. I had heard and read a little of the Reaches, how it was home to peoples of varied ancestry, and was therefore unsurprised to find the crew mostly dark-skinned with the broad features common in the Empire’s south-western provinces. I walked with Al Sorna to the ship’s berth, leaving the Lady Emeren rigidly immobile at the end of the mole. She stared out to sea, refusing to grace the Northman with another word.

 

“You should heed her,” I told him as we neared the gangplank. “Her vendetta won’t end here.”

 

He glanced over at the still form of the Lady, sighing in regret. “Then she is to be pitied.”

 

“We thought we were sending you here to your death, but all we have done is set you free. As you knew we would, I’m sure. Ell-Nestra never had a chance. Why didn’t you kill him?”

 

His black eyes met mine with the piercing, questing gaze I knew saw far too much. “At my trial Lord Velsus asked me how many lives I had taken, I honestly couldn’t tell him. I’ve killed many times, the good, the bad, cowards and heroes, thieves and… poets.” His eyes became downcast and I wondered if this was my apology. “Even friends. And I’m sick of it.” He looked down at the sheathed sword in his hand. “I hope to never draw this again.”

 

He didn’t linger, made no offer of his hand or any word of farewell, simply turning and making his way up the gangplank. The vessel’s captain greeted him with a deep bow, his face lit with a naked awe shared by the surrounding crew. The Northman’s legend had flown far it seemed, even though these men hailed from a place long distant from the Realm’s heartland, his name clearly carried a great meaning. What waits for him? I wondered. In a Realm where he is no longer merely a man.

 

The ship departed within the hour, leaving half its cargo unloaded on the docks, keen to be away with its prize. I stood at the end of the mole with the Lady Emeren, watching the Hope Killer sail away. I could see him for a time, a tall figure at the prow of the ship. I fancied he may have glanced back at us, just once, perhaps even have raised a hand in a wave, but he was too far away to be sure. Once free of the harbour the ship unfurled to full sail and was soon vanished beyond the headland, heading east with all speed.

 

“You should forget him,” I told the Lady Emeren. “This obsession will be your ruin. Go home and raise your son. I beg you.”

 

I was appalled to see she was crying, tears streaming from her eyes, although her face was rigidly devoid of expression. Her voice was a whisper, but fierce as ever, “Not until the gods claim me, and even then I'll find a way to send my vengeance through the veil.”

 

 

 

 

 

Part V

 

 

In longer games, where the Liar’s Attack or one of the other openings outlined above has failed, the complexity of Keschet is fully revealed. The following chapters will examine the most effective stratagems to be employed in the long game, beginning with The Bowman’s Switch, taking its name from a manoeuvre employed by Alpiran horse archers. Like the Liar’s Attack, The Bowman’s Switch employs misdirection but also retains the potential for exploiting unforeseen opportunity. A skilled player can move offensively against two objectives, leaving their opponent ignorant of the ultimate target until the most fruitful opportunity presents itself.

 

Author unknown, Keschet – Rules and Strategies, Great Library of the Unified Realm.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

He took Spit and rode westward, keeping to the shoreline, finding a campsite sheltered in the lee of a large grass-topped dune. He gathered driftwood for a fire and cut grass for kindling. The stems were dried by the sea breeze and lit at the first touch of the flint. The fire grew high and bright, embers rising like fireflies into the early evening sky. In the distance the lights of Linesh seemed to burn brighter still and he could hear music mingled with the sound of many voices raised in celebration.

 

“After all we did for them,” he told Spit, holding a candy up for the war horse to chomp on. “War, plague and months of fear. Hard to believe they’re happy to see us go.”