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Christine Lucas   Synopsis   The Rose of Eden Stella Barron

The Rose of Eden.

By

Christine Lucas.

Part One:

Chapter One:

Water, trickled down the jagged rock walls of a cave, as daylight streamed in through the open entrance. A fire snapped and crackled in the middle of the floor, which was covered with human effluence. A figure was bent huddled around this source of light and heat, humming silently and rocking too and fro. Its face was concealed from view by the mangled strands of greasy black hair that cascaded from the creature’s head. It was dressed in the filthy folds of animal skins.

There was further movement within the cave, two more creatures, similar to the one sitting by the fire. These two were crouched down skinning an animal and eating its entrails raw. They were the warlocks that resided in the caves of the Terra Plains, home of the giants who stood twice the size as men. The warlocks were pitiful men who had become twisted and deformed by their abuse of magic. Magic on Giya was a skill just like any other, such as the felling of trees or turning lead into gold. Not many humans sought for the power of magic but those unhappy few lead a wretched existence.

A terrifying screech like that of an owl pierced the calm tranquillity of the cave. "He’s coming!" the warlock sitting by the burning fire shouted. "The flames have spoken, brothers." He gazed into the raging fire while the other two warlocks, with congealing blood around their lips came hurriedly over to the fire; one had a limp and the other a stooped back.

All three gasped in shock and horror as in the flames they saw the visage of a knight, dressed in black with a cloak draped around his shoulders bearing the crest of Maghara, an emblem only worn by knights highly esteemed in Giya. "He’s here!" They shivered together.

A shadow appeared at the entrance of the cave. "I see you have come for answers!" remarked the warlock with the deformed leg. The knight who they addressed said nothing. The silver blade, which hung from his waist, shimmered in the firelight.

"The King of Trian has sent me here so that I should instruct you in the finding of the Rose of Eden." The brave knight commanded the warlocks to begin, to gaze into their ever seeing, all knowing flames.

"But the Rose is a sacred artefact, and it is hidden safely away from the greed of human kind!" the warlock with the bent spine added.

"Enough of your words of wisdom. I have no need for them!" cried the knight placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to swing if the warlocks did not obey. "King Frederick will reward you handsomely!" he added seeing the desire flare up in the warlock’s eyes.

"We will do as you command!" They turned to the fire.

"Flame of Giya, we ask for your guidance. Show us the way to the place where the doomed Rose is!" The warlocks chanted as the fire leapt and sparks flew. One warlock hummed, another screamed, the third kept quiet, his eyes intent on the scenes that the eternal embers were showing to him.

"The flames take me to the land of Unerra, kingdom of William the 2^nd. I pass over the valley where the great battle took place between Unerra and Trian long ago. The valley is now famed for its abundance of poppies.

"The flames show me a forest, the trees seem to be sighing. I see a babbling brook and children are playing close by. Deep in this forest, besides the brook is built a cottage, the Rose is housed there. I see the Rose Tender, a middle aged woman from the bloodline of the first Knight of the Rose. She is the one you seek!"

"But do you see the Rose?" the knight demanded impatiently.

"No, the Rose was kept from my sight. You will however find your prize in that cottage in the Unerran forest." The warlock ended, tired after travelling many miles with the flames. The knight was less than impressed and had expected directions.

"There are so many forests in Unerra! Which one is it?" the knight despaired.

"We are sorry for we cannot tell you. The flames have not guided us so!"

"Well make them! I demand it!" the knight yelled frantically, his face glowed red with anger. The warlocks looked up at him blankly. He was not going to get any more information from them that day. "Speak flames, darn you!" The knight thrust his heavy black boot into the dying embers of the fire and scattered its ashes across the floor.

"That was a foolish thing to have done!" remarked one of the warlocks, pointing its skeletal finger his way.

"I don’t care, old man! Clear up the mess, that’s all you’re good for!" The knight turned on his heels to walk out into the fresh, open air, away from the stifling atmosphere of the cave, but the warlocks cried out to him.

"But where is our reward?" The knight chuckled, black heartedly.

"There is no reward!"

"May yours and Trian’s quest for the Rose be dogged by every step of its way!" one of the warlocks cursed angrily at being deceived. The knight suddenly turned round, striking out with his sharp bladed sword. A piercing shriek cried into the air as metal struck bone. Frightened groaning and the hurried shuffling of feet sounded into the depths of the cave. The knight peered long and hard into the darkened gloom and discovered two of the dishevelled warlocks, reeking in their own faeces huddled together in a corner. They both cowered away from the knight who stood triumphant in the bright opening of the cave. His features shadowed in darkness. The dim light from the cave entrance reflected off the bloodied surface of his sword, which the knight held victoriously in his hand.

The knight’s eyes fell upon the scattered ashes of the fire, the warlocks’ all seeing eye, and then to the decapitated head of the victim of his wrath. The knight had cut down one of the three warlocks, his body lay slumped on the floor, and his twisted hands lay still and lifeless. He would become food for his brothers’ once the knight had left the cave. "So, even warlocks can die!" the knight smiled enjoying the mastery he held over the still living warlocks, who feared the same fate would be meted upon them, but the knight sheathed his bloody sword and bent to pick up the dead warlock’s head, its greasy hair entwined in the long fingers of the man. "Well brothers." He addressed. "He shan’t be needing this! I’ll leave you now." The knight strode out of the cave with his trophy, leaving a dirge of mournful wailing behind.

Outside the cave on a narrow ledge, the knight of King Fredrick’s Council stood soaking up the cool breeze that blew around the nooks and crevasses of the rocky terrain. He stood on a rocky pathway that wound round the hills of the Terra Plains. As the knight viewed the horizon that spanned out before him, he could see the giants busy with their fishing at the harbour. They stood with their bare feet in the shallows around the sandy shore and cast their nets into the blue azure of the Fayan Sea. From across the stretch of water the knight could see far out and clearly could discern the cliffs of Trian looming ominously in the distance and as he scanned the vista, to his right lay a mist enshrouded island just as foreboding as the reputation of Trian was for the peoples of the mainland. The misty island shimmered in the distance like a mirage. This island was Nebel-Insel; a haven for those races that had been consumed by magic or by their very natures loved dark places.

The knight briskly strode down the pathway towards the shore where his rowing boat bobbed in the shallow waters. With his trophy still dangling from his hand he walked passed the fishing giants who all turned their heads to see the man who had hewn down a mighty warlock. A ripple of fear shivered through the fishing giants who kept one eye on their stock and another on the knight who untied his moorings, threw the head of the warlock into the boat and jumped in afterwards. Taking up his oars, the knight rowed away from the Terra Plains with the knowledge that would bring him and the Trian king ever closer to the secret whereabouts of the Rose of Eden.

Chapter Two:

The vile stench of decaying flesh filtered out into a castle’s courtyard. The smell wafted from a second storey room, housed in one of the four towers. The only tower that was habitable, since the other three had been decimated by war, fifty years earlier. The three countries of Trian where in such a state of disarray under the one King Frederick, that even his home, could not be rebuilt.

Everyone in residence here walked about permanently holding a scented posy to his or her nose, the stench of sickness was unbearable. A cold draft blew through the castle, as many windows still had no glass in their frames.

In one dark room, large drapes of heavy fabric hung over the windows. The curtains bellowed frantically and the candles flickered wildly. Coughing and wheezing accompanied a gust of wind as a young man, barely twenty lay festering in his bed. He held a dirty handkerchief in his hand and he splattered it with blood, which he brought up from his lungs, as a coughing fit racked his body.

"Nurse!" the boy called. "My medicine!" He grasped feebly at the phial that was offered to him, and he gulped the disgusting tasting liquid noisily whilst the nurse wiped away the drool from his mouth.

A proud, regal man appeared at the doorway. His body was draped in robes, of tattered silk and brocade. His figure looked younger than the head, carried on its shoulders. His hair was greying, bushy and unkempt and his beard was cropped short. His eyes were a sharp blue and his gaze could cut through any façade.

"Father!" the young boy called, his voice failing. "I’m feeling much better now!" The nurse gave the older man a truthful look that countered the young man’s hopes. The king stood close to his son’s side and looked dolefully at him.

"Keep taking your medicine!" said the King looking at the pale, gaunt face of his only son. His wife had died in childbirth, leaving a sickly heir in her place. A chair was presently placed by his son’s bedside and the king seated himself. He held his hand out to that of his son, which was cold and clammy to touch. "Don’t worry Cuthbert I have my finest knight on an errand for the answer to your illness, we will soon have the cure, he should be returning shortly."

"Father," the young man cried; tears fell like streams down his grey cheeks. "I’m sorry to have disappointed you."

"Now, now." Frederick comforted. "What ever makes you think you have disappointed me?"

"I have always been a thorn in your side." Cuthbert breathed deeply. "My illness has weighed heavily on your thoughts."

"That is only because you are my dear son. I want you to be well, to become fit and strong to take up the crown when I eventually die." Frederick clasped his son’s hand tightly. "You have never been a thorn in my side!" Cuthbert smiled and then shuddered with an attack of coughing. His face turned an unhealthy shade of purple and Frederick nursed him himself shunning all attempts of help from the nurse. "There, now my son," he soothed Cuthbert after his attack had ended. "We will find you a cure." The king’s son closed his eyes. "Rest now, recover your strength. I shall stay with you until you are sleeping." Frederick smoothed his son’s fair hair and sat patiently watching every breath rise and fall from his pale lips.

Chapter Three:

A dried twig split in two under foot of a girl, still fresh in her youth who raced through the dense foliage of the Forest of Sighs. The thrill of the hunt throbbed in the girl’s veins. Her head ached and her heart raced as the world around her became blurred as she brushed past hanging tree boughs, breaking in her wake.

The hunter bore down upon his prey. He could see her in the distance waving her arms wildly and shrieking as she turned her head to see if she was still being pursued, she screamed when she realized that she was! Her stalker was not far from her. He was a young boy, no older than eleven years of age.

Up ahead of the boy, the girl, who could rightly be called a woman caught her footing between entwining tree roots that carpeted the floor of the forest. She yelled and fell to the earth with a thud. As she lay flat on her face, her ears pricked up as the quick heavy pants of her tracker echoed through the air. The young woman wriggled her footing out from between the expansive roots and rubbed her knees as she got up to her feet and darted off laughing, before she became a captive. The boy giggled breathlessly as he saw his opportunity of catching her slip by.

Behind a tree found deeper into the wood was the shelter and cover of another hunter, waiting patiently for the right moment to jump out and catch the fleeing woman.

"Boo! I’ve got you!" the second pursuer screamed and springing out before the young woman, was another fair-haired creature. This time it was a girl of about eight years and even prettier than the boy. They were obviously related, brother and sister presumably.

"You can’t get away now!" laughed the boy, holding his arms out ready to catch the woman. The three of them giggled. The woman waited for an opportunity so that she could escape but both angelic cherubs, now looking more like devilish fiends never wavered once in their watch of their captive.

"Let’s take her to see Father!" the little girl shouted, as they in turn took hold of the young woman’s arms. The boy, almost as tall as the woman led her through the forest to a clearing, to a babbling brook, where a cottage made of wood with a straw thatched roof stood. Wafting in the gentle breeze was the beautiful smell of a meal cooking.

Outside the cottage’s, open doorway stood a woodcutter, hacking at blocks of tree trunk with a great-headed axe. The man was tall, unusually tall for this age. It was to this man that the young boy and girl took their captive.

"Look Father! See who we’ve caught in the forest!" the little girl laughed as their father turned to them showing his middle agedness.

"Ah there you are, you little tearaways! Have you been playing that silly hunting game again?" He turned to his eldest child and smiled. "Flora, your Mother wants to speak with you alone." He then turned his attention to his youngest. "Lilly, Robin gather these logs and carry them into the house with me."

"But father!" cried the two youngest siblings of the young woman, who looked bewildered. ‘What ever does Mother want of me?’ she thought. Lilly and Robin watched her enter the cottage and close the door behind her, as they each picked up a pile of logs.

The abode they lived in was simply furnished. A table big enough to seat six guests elbow-to-elbow stood at the centre of the room. Flora’s mother stood stirring a pot of stew over a hot burning fire. The steam from the pot had turned her cheeks red. She turned to face her dark haired daughter. "My child," she began, reaching for a metal box that had sat for years untouched on the mantelpiece above the fire. "You have grown into a most lovely young woman. It was not your fault that you were born to parents who were poor."

"Mother," Flora interrupted. "I don’t mind having few riches. I like living in the forest, close to nature. I’d rather live peacefully here than have all the richness associated with the King’s Court."

"I know you say that dear, but it was what I longed for when I was younger, to enter society as a proper lady but when your grandfather gave me the gift of this," she held the box and its contents out to Flora. "I knew that my lineage was far more important than any short lived beauty."

"Lineage?" Flora questioned looking down into the box and wondering at the sight. "What is this?"

"You are its new owner. Tend it carefully, for it can be dangerous if miss used!"

"Dangerous? How?"

"You are the next in line to inherit it. Your blood commands this duty of you, it is an honour." Flora took the box and closed the lid. "All you are asked to do is keep it safe from harm."

"I will mother." Flora said. "I won’t tell anyone about it."

"Won’t tell anyone what?" called the high-pitched voice of Lilly; she had entered the home with her arms laden with chunks of chopped wood. Flora did not reply and rushed away to hide the box safely from prying eyes.

"Here are the logs for the fire." Robin stomped inside, his eyes peering over the top of his bundle. Their mother set wooden bowls at the table and with the help of Flora she dolled out the cooked stew as the family gathered around for their dinner.

Their father walked into the house, wielding his axe over his shoulder. He smelt the flavour of freshly cooked vegetables and hung his weapon upon hooks on a wall. "That’s all the wood chopped for the day," he said sitting down at the head of the table. His blue eyes, that were replicated in those of his children looked upon his wife who poured his meal from a ladle into his bowl. "I think a prayer is in order," he looked at Robin. "My son, it’s your turn to give thanks to the Aspects for this lovely meal your mother has prepared."

Robin who was eager to tuck into his stew placed his wooden spoon down and clasped his hands together; those seated followed his actions. Robin uttered his thanks and Flora silently offered her own prayer up to the Aspects, asking for their guidance in the duty that her mother had bestowed upon her.

Chapter Four:

Far above the clouds looking down upon the high peaks of the mountain range that acted as a natural boarder between the two kingdoms of Unerra and Trian, a dragon flew by on his way to the capital of Unerra, Shetland Hill. He was on an errand from his home in the dragon Isles. His scaly skin was a dusky pink, an indication of his youth and he went by the name of Yolan. He had been sent with a message from the Dragon Council to King William the 2^nd and he glided on the winds that travelled northwards.

Dragons on Giya were revered creatures, no more feared than respected by the other races. Their population numbers were not great but they gained their eminent position as overseers of the peoples of Giya by their sheer might. No other race would oppose them, however the dragons were a placid and lenient race who only became volatile when provoked and there were not many occasions in Giyan history when they were so.

The dragons had been stirred into responding to a plea from the Terra Plains after one of their dragon ‘watchers’ had seen a ‘warning flare’ being set alight on the island, a signal for dragon intervention. A giant had alerted their attention. The king of the Dragons, Arthur sent one of his delegates to the Terra Plains to see what all the commotion was about.

On landing, the dragon was informed of the visiting knight and heard first hand the distraught wailings coming from the warlock’s cave, which were later to be known as the ‘Wailing Peaks’. Mysterious shadows were seen rippling through the hilly ridges and with his far seeing eyes the dragon saw the bent, twisted figures of the two surviving warlocks, wondering the hills mourning their lost brother. The dragon instantly informed the giants that he would voice this event to the Dragon Council held later that week. Many officials from the Dragon Isles visited the Terra Plains interviewing eyewitnesses and even calming the distraught warlocks, extracting the reason why the knight visited them and for what purpose their advice was sort after.

The Dragon Council was held before the king. He listened to the giants’ plea for the murderous knight to be found and justice to be meted out accordingly. King Arthur pondered the plea but was more concerned by the implication of the warlock’s death. "The knight was working for King Frederick of Trian." Arthur boomed his majesty into the cavernous council halls that were built beneath a dead volcano on the Dragon Isles. "The Trians are interested in the Rose again, for what reason this time I wonder?" A spokes-dragon for the council bowed his head before his king.

"We should not have relinquished the protection of the Rose to the humans."

"Are you questioning my ability to make judgements?" Arthur argued. "The Elves made it clear that they didn’t want anything to do with it, and we couldn’t take it by force from the humans. King William promised me he’d keep the Rose safe and I believed him." Author added proudly. "We have had fifty years of peace on the human’s lands and this incident in the Giant territory is just a hiccup in this great time of peace."

"Sire, send a messenger to William, inform him of the peril the Rose may be in, if the Trians gain knowledge of the whereabouts of the Rose."

"That was my intention and I have already dispatched one of our kind to Unerra." Arthur informed his council that disbanded, none the wiser to what was to befall the lands of man.

From a window in a castle wall, the prince of Unerra, Benjamin was looking out across the land. He was a sprightly young 22 year old with all the vigours of early man hood. At his side was his manservant Marcus, who had been in service to his majesty since he was a child.

"Sire, is that a dragon I see flying towards us?" Marcus cried in astonishment. It had been a while since dragons had any contact with humans and neither Marcus nor Prince Benjamin had seen one in all their young lives.

"Let’s go and tell Father!" Benjamin called running out of the chamber and down the corridor.

"Yes. Let’s!" Marcus added, swiftly following behind. They hurried down the stone steps that led out into the courtyard. They surprised a few servants who looked at them as they ran towards the king’s chambers.

"Father. Father!" Prince Benjamin called. "There is a dragon fast approaching!" His father looked up from his papers, as he sat at his desk writing rites and laws, with the guidance of his chancellors.

"A real live dragon!" Marcus exclaimed in wonderment. King William sat up and shifted his papers, as if this interruption was an irritation.

"A dragon?" he said in mock disbelief. William was a young king in his forties and he was clean-shaven and as fresh faced as his son. He sported the same dark hair and features that all males in his family shared. ‘I wonder what a dragon wants with us?’ he thought as his visitor landed in the castle courtyard, with a loud thud and shudder as if an earthquake had struck the region.

"Now be good and go to your rooms, and let me receive our visitor in peace." William said to the prince, who groaned at his father’s orders. Marcus pushed Benjamin to one side and they watched curiously as the king entered the courtyard.

The king of Unerra welcomed his visitor, as the dragon was so large, the meeting had to be conducted outside. "Welcome my friend!" King William spoke bowing his head in respect. The dragon replied with the same courtesy and began to address the king gravely.

"I have been sent to you from the Dragon Council. I am carrying a message."

"What is the message?" replied the king noticing from the corner of his eye that his son and companion had disobeyed his orders and were hiding behind the door, listening to the conference. The dragon continued.

"We have heard reports of a man, travelling to the Terra Plains." William raised his eyebrows. "We know that man on the plains is not unusual," continued the dragon "but the suspicious death of one of the ‘all seeing’ warlocks and the babbling nonsense from the two surviving brothers all point to one human working with malicious intent. He is rumoured to have worn the crest of Trian. We send you this message as a warning to you of the possibility of impending troubles as information extracted from the warlocks bodes ill. We request that you keep the Rose of Eden safe and out of the hands of evil doers!" King William folded his arms and sighed. He had seen relative peace envelope Giya for almost every year of his kingship and now there were echoes stirring of troubles approaching in the distance.

"I thank your race for the warning! I shall act on your advice immediately!" replied King William bowing towards Yolan, the dragon turned and took his leave. The draft from his massive wings gusted like a gale around those on the ground. Everyone watched the dragon become just a speck on the horizon. The appearance of Yolan was an event indeed and one that many gossiped about. The prince ran out to face his father.

"Father, will we go to war?" he cried worriedly. His father gave a wry smile and eased his son’s fears.

"I shouldn’t think so. It’s just rumours and speculation!"

"But it’s best if we protect the Rose though, isn’t it!" The prince uttered.

"Very true. You’ll make a wise ruler someday!" his father remarked smiling. "The dragon’s are worried for the safety of the Rose that is all!" King William ordered six of his finest knights to patrol the woods where the Rose was housed. Fifty years ago, after the war in which the Unerran’s defeated the Trian forces William’s father had sent the Rose to be kept among the protection of its line of Tenders, who had sworn to keep the Rose safe and who still lived simply in the Forest of Sighs. It was King William’s duty to give support to the brave Rose Tenders and to do anything in his power to keep evil intentions at bay. For the Rose was a dangerous article in the wrong hands, as history had already been witness too.

"Father, can I go and attend to the safety of the Rose?" Benjamin said longing for adventure and to make a reputation for himself.

"No!" his father shortly cut his son’s hopes. "I will not have you put in danger. My men are good enough for the purpose. Your job will begin after I am dead!" The king left the prince with Marcus in the courtyard feeling miserable.

"But I want to be part of the action, now father!" Benjamin groaned to himself, "and you said the Rose is not in any danger, then why fear for me if nothing threatens the Rose?" His question remained unanswered.

"Just wait sir. Your time will come!" Marcus replied trying to calm the prince’s rebellion that he could see rising in his eyes. Prince Benjamin folded his arms and perused the matter no further. His eyes looked towards the six knights dressed in blue, riding on white steeds across the drawbridge and out into the wide-open wilderness that most of Unerra was. Benjamin’s heart wanted to ride out alongside them, but he respected Marcus and his father and he followed his confidante into the grey stone castle wishing that he had not been born a prince in line to the throne.

Chapter Five:

The two large doors of King Frederick’s reception hall opened with the wave of the king’s hand. He was sitting on his throne at the back of the hall, his crown resting uneasily on his large head. Through the doors came the tall, imposing figure of Frederick’s knight, who had just returned from the long journey back from the Terra Plains. The knight took off his gloves and wiped his palms over his blonde short-cropped hair, he stood before his king. "So, Ellis what did you uncover from the Terra Plains?"

"Well." Ellis began throwing down the severed head of the warlock at the king’s feet. Frederick recoiled in horror at the black congealing mess before him, he baulked. "The warlocks eventually relinquished some information."

"Which was?" Frederick ordered impatiently.

"That the Rose is held by its line of Tenders somewhere deep in an Unerran forest."

"What?" the king cried. "They never told you the exact place?" Ellis shook his head. "I need to find the Rose quickly, my son isn’t going to last another week! You should have killed all the warlocks for not telling you everything!" Frederick wrung his hands in rage. Ellis bowed before his distraught liege. He put his hand upon the hilt of his sword, which comforted him from the feelings of treason that stirred in his breast at the sight of the floundering king. Unknown to Frederick his best knight had his own desire to obtain the Rose.

"My lord." Ellis began, believing it was too soon to reveal the reason behind his duty to King Frederick. "Leave the matter of retrieving the Rose to me, all I require is that you let me have as many men as I wish to take on this expedition."

"Yes, yes, you can have as many as you wish, but please I urge you! Get the Rose for me, bring it safely back to Stone Peak and I shall reward you thrice over!" Ellis thanked his grace, but behind his piercing blue eyes, the knight laughed. He knew that without the Rose, King Frederick’s grasp on the crown would decline especially at the event of his son’s death. "Well what are you smiling for?" Frederick cried, clapping his hands agitatedly. "Make your preparations to leave immediately."

Ellis, having received his orders saluted the king and marched boldly out, the spurs of his boots clicked upon the stone floor as the double doors opened before him. Frederick was left alone in his empty hall. The king suddenly felt old and the weight of his crown was overburdening. He wiped his hand across his clammy forehead and closed his eyes mournfully as his son; Cuthbert took up a chorus of painful screams, each one louder than the last.

Ellis, standing outside in the courtyard of Stone Peak, looked up to the tower where the king’s son cried out, his illness was getting worse. ‘Death’s already calling him!’ Ellis thought ordering his horse from the stables that only answered to his voice. The knight’s steed was white and was called Blanche-deux. Whatever happened to the first Blanche no one dared ask, but everyone knew that if Ellis was capable of loving, then this horse he loved! He ordered five soldiers of the king to follow him on foot. "Your King has set you a difficult task, to obtain the Rose of Eden. He will look favourably on those who do their duty without complaint." The five men bent their wills to the knight as they left the gates of the castle and began the long trek north.

Along the way, Ellis stirred up emotions in the young men of the towns and villages they travelled through. "Join us in our quest to claim the Rose of Eden and I promise your king will feed your families and they will not want for anything again." Ellis called to the men’s desires and not one could pass up the opportunity to rid themselves of their poverty. With his five soldiers and a horde of peasant-folk at his disposal, Ellis headed their invasion through the mountain pass into Unerra.

© 2003 Christine Lucas.

Christine Lucas   Synopsis   The Rose of Eden