The Connor Chronicles: Bronze

THE CONNOR CHRONICLES:

  BRONZE

  By

  Reena Yadav

  *****

  The Connor Chronicles: Bronze

  Copyright 2013 Reena Yadav

  Cover design by Brent Meske (https://www.facebook.com/bmeske)

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval systems or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the various products referenced in this work of fiction which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Acknowledgement

  There are many people I would like to thank, who have helped in one way or another in making my first novel a reality. Firstly, I would like to thank my husband, Permesh Jethi, who is my pillar of strength. I would also like to thank my parents, Hematram Yadav and Devka Yadav as well as my siblings, Rakhee Yadav and Ajay Yadav and their spouses, Sharonpal Pannu and Lavleena and most importantly, my little niece, Aryana Kaur.

  I would like to thank my reviewers, Suman Rampal, Vasanthi Nadarajan, Huganeswaran Veerasagram and Jasmine Halili for their valuable input and feedback throughout this process. You guys have been my support team in keeping me sane and I thank you so much for that.

  I would also like to thank my readers for taking time to read my novel. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 - Being

  Chapter 2 - Becoming

  Chapter 3 - Training

  Chapter 4 - Mind over matter

  Chapter 5 - Focus, focus, focus!

  Chapter 6 - The meeting

  Chapter 7 - Fast forward

  Chapter 8 - Vengeance

  Chapter 9 - New friends

  Chapter 10 - Sarah’s story

  Chapter 11 - An unexpected visit

  Chapter 12 - Dinner and dance

  Chapter 13 - Calm before the storm

  Chapter 14 - War of the worlds

  Chapter 15 - Explanations

  Chapter 16 - The Oracle speaks

  Chapter 17 - The Eternity Amulet

  Chapter 18 - Revelations

  Chapter 19 - The reunion

  Chapter 20 - The runaway bride

  Chapter 21 - Sarah to Iris

  Chapter 22 - Moving on

  Chapter 23 - The Sacred Triad

  Chapter 24 - The White Truce Flag

  Chapter 25 - Search for the Nectar of Immortality

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  At the entrance of the temple, two inscriptions were carved, one was “know thyself” and the other was “nothing in excess”. It was the first time she had come to seek advice and, she needed answers to her questions. Questions which had been playing in her mind for so long. She had come to meet the Oracle and it was not a simple process; there were procedures in which she had to follow strictly, one error in the process and she would need to start the process all over again. As she was someone who was held in esteemed and had higher authority, she was able to secure an advantage in the queue in the place where she was to meet and when she was to meet the Oracle. She had brought several goats which were to be given as sacrificial animals. The goats had to be cleansed, by showering them with holy water. The hooves of the goats shivered upwards, which was an auspicious sign, one which she was hoping for. She did not watch the sacrifice of the goats as those were restricted to the priests. Once the goats were sacrificed, its internal organs, especially liver were examined to ensure that the readings would be favorable. Now for the next step, she and her entourage were led to the adyton and there, they saw Pythia for the first time. She was seated on her mounted tripod seat, holding laurel leaves and a dish of Kassotis spring water into which she gazed to reveal her prophecies. Nearby to where Pythia seated was an Omphalos, which was a religious stone artifact. It had carvings of a knotted net covering its surface and a hollow center which widens towards its base. The omphalos was flanked by two gold eagles, representing the authority of Zeus.

  As she sat down behind the Kassotis spring water, she then proceeded to ask Pythia, ‘Has the Chosen One arrived?’ to which Pythia answered, ‘Yes, The Chosen One has arrived. He does not know his true powers and his true identity as he lives the life of a barbaric mortal. His life now is a drastic contrast to what he is truly destined for, to serve mankind without fear or fervor. Despite his barbaric nature, he has done some good throughout his lifetime. His good deeds have brought him here to a level where Man becomes God. I foresee the future of mankind to be a bleak one as The Chosen One has to learn about himself, his powers and acute senses at every stage. He has to control his revengeful thoughts and his ego. However, throughout time, he would have mastered the art of peace, within himself and externally. He would have achieved calmness within himself and those external events to him. He is not easily influenced and would not fight unless provoked or to survive. However, he would need to master the art of focus, create and visualize which he will someday. He would meet friends and foes, some out to destroy him while others would devote their lives to him. He would meet his greatest ally, someone from an unlikely lineage. Their friendship, once sealed, is fated for eternity. No amount of deceit or malice can break it. He does not know who this greatest ally is, only time will tell who they are, what or where he can find them. Friends and foe are present at every turn of his life. He lives the life of a loner; however, companionship is in his stars once he has found his true love, there would be obstacles, but he would overcome them with his patience, despite knowing his true self. His mother is his guardian angel and good friend, who will guide him and leads him from darkness to light. She is not to be underestimated. There is so much more which The Chosen One has yet to learn about himself, especially, his main duties, and his origins but for now his duty is to serve mankind and to ensure the safety of The Protected One. The Protected One would be a pillar of strength for The Chosen One. One cannot live without the other. Each is each other’s strengths and work together to minimize their combined weaknesses. The Protected One, alone, is just as powerful as The Chosen One but when together, their combined powers and acute senses are beyond our comprehension.

  Bho is tu is Buachiaill thar an treuid,

  Iomain fein shin do chleidh’s do chaimir,

  Seun sinn fo do bhrot riomhach reidh,

  A sgeith dhidinn, dion ri’r mairrionn.

  Bi-sa do chlaidheamh cruaidh, cosgarra,

  Chon sinne dhion a irinn arrais,

  Bho fhigeirich is bho fheadaine frinne fuara,

  S bho dheatach ruadh an aigeil,

  M’ anam an urrachd an Ard Righ,

  As Thou art the Shepherd over the flock,

  Tend Thou us to the cot and the fold,

  Sain us beneath Thine own glorious mantle,

  Thou Shield of Protection, guard us forever.

  Be Thou a hard triumphant slave,

  To shield us securely from wicked hell,

  From the fiends and from the stieve snell gullies,

  And from the lurid smoke of the abyss,

  Be my soul in the trustance of the High King’

  At that sentence, Pythia stopped. She was in a highly meditative state and was about to fall off
her tripod seat. Her assistants rushed to her side and brought her down. When they brought her down, she continued, ‘What’s his name, Pythia? his name? Please give us a name’ she encouraged. Her entourage had surrounded Pythia and nodded and asked, ‘his name, please tell us his name’. Pythia’s assistants pushed them aside to bring Pythia down from her tripod.

  It was a futile attempt as Pythia’s assistants led her out of the room. They prevented her and her entourage from coming close to Pythia. Their session had ended. They would have to come again to find out the answer they needed. She was disappointed, yet relieved at the same time. Pythia did answer their first question. The Chosen One had arrived, only time would tell when Pythia would reveal the name of The Chosen One. Only time will tell. But, then, she was confused as to who the protected one was.

  Chapter 1 - Being

  1st Century BC, Kernow

  It was a scene of chaos. There was confusion and disorder everywhere. People were running for their lives and mothers could be seen grabbing the hands of their children to safety in their roundhouses. Little did they know that we set fire to the roundhouses bringing them down to ash. The flames engulfed the thatched reed roofs and the daubed walls leaving it blackened. As I walked around the village, I could see embers at other roundhouses, still flaming of what was left of the burnt out roundhouses. I bent down and put out a smoldering ember from a piece of wood, what had once been a wooden rafter which was used to support the roof of the roundhouse. I felt a burning sensation on my fingers, I had felt this before and it didn’t hurt me anymore. I rubbed my fingers on the grass and sprinkled some water over it. There was a red mark on my finger, but it would soon disappear over time.

  As I watched the commotion, I saw a village man heading towards me. He was tall, big and burly. He had long unkempt hair and had a pointed sword. Just as he was to stab me, I pull out my crooked sword and stab him once, twice and thrice. The man looks at me, wide-eyed and stunned as blood oozes from his mouth. Some of my men, who had seen the attack, rushed towards me and stabbed and kicked the man. I stopped my men from going into a killing frenzy and instructed them to look for food instead. I saw that some of my men would wait to capture those who had run out of the roundhouses. We only wanted those who were fit, regardless of whether they were men, women or children. There was fear written on the faces of those we captured. The fear of uncertainty of not knowing what was to happen of them.

  We killed those who were weak, old and infirmed. Although, I had killed many men in my younger days, I left the killing to my men this time. My sword, though stained with the blood of the villager, was now clean. We killed them by the sword, straight into their stomachs until they bled to death. If that didn’t kill them, my men took out a dagger to finish the job. After rounding the bodies, my men then dug a pit and threw the dead bodies in it. We didn’t care if they were dead or alive. We set fire to the pit by throwing wood and shrubs. As the bodies burnt, they released a charcoal-like smell into the air. The dead bodies which lay on the ground released an acrid odor as it was slowly decomposing into the ground. The dead bodies on the ground were those of the old and infirmed, who my men would dig a separate pit to be burnt.

  There were survivors. Some men were wounded, woman and children crying, wailing, screaming to be set free from my men who took no mercy on them. The healthy men and woman were to be taken in as slaves, who would be sold to the highest bidder. These men would serve their masters and mistresses in every way, while the healthy children were made to work in the fields, the lucky ones would be taken in for apprenticeship to become masonries and into the fields of ironmongery. The beautiful women were kept as mistresses by the rich masters. They would experience most exquisite jewelry, finest textile and beautiful castles, while the older women were to be given kitchen duties.

  This was once a thriving farming village. Each village had its own sheep, cattle and pigs. Sheep were kept for their wool and milk while cattle were kept to plough their farms. They were proud people with no hierarchical structure. They tended to foodstuff which we needed, wheat, slept and barley. They also grew lentils, beans and peas. At the centre of what was once the only fountain in the village, a man stood above its structure, tall and proud. The man, was I, Aidan Connor. A man of six feet to be precise, fair skinned with shoulder length blonde hair and sky blue eyes. My hair was tied into a pony-tail. I was a warrior leader and a nobleman of my clan. I wore my tunic bracae and my sleeveless tunic shirt which was brightly colored. I wore my wool cloak over my shoulders fastened with a gold buckle in front.

  I could see the destruction that I had brought to this once peaceful village. We were invading all the villages in sight to expand my territory. The villager’s only crime was that they didn’t agree to our peace agreement and they didn’t provide us with the foodstuff which we wanted. They leader of the village shouted profanities as I spoke about the peace agreement. The peace agreement was a simple document, a document which stated that the village would be under our rule and care and they were to provide their men for our battles. They leader said that they didn’t agree to our terms and wanted to maintain independence from us. The leader told us that they had fought invaders before and that they would fight again. They fought hard and fought well, but they lost. My men struck the village leader just as he was about to strike me with a dagger. With five of men against him, he lay motionless on the ground. When news spread that we had killed the village elder, the men took their arms and fought. From experience, we knew that hungry men make angry men and soon there were fights everywhere in the village. We took everything they had, their food, their people and their mead.

  ‘Sir!’ a voice startled me from behind as I walked above and around the structure of the fountain. ‘We have taken what we need, and seek your permission return to Kernow’

  ‘Proceed!’ I say in a stern voice as I jumped down from the fountain and landed on my feet. I brushed my hands and dusted of dust from my tunic and cloak.

  We were soon on our way. My men led the way and I climbed Stallion, my faithful horse. Stallion galloped ahead and we soon led the way. The journey to Kernow was a pleasant one. After we had invaded the village, we came to a wooded forest. We camped there and fed the slaves and fed ourselves. At the break of dawn, we continued our journey. The birds were chirping as the sun was rose above the horizon as we made our way though the deep wooded valley into the meadows. The wooded valley provided us with much needed shelter and was moist and had abundance of flora and fauna which became useful during our journey home. It was truly a sight to behold. To me, sunrise always brought hope, hope of a new day, a new day without any mistakes or killings, a day where we could start fresh. As I rode Stallion, my horse who was also my prized possession, my only companion that rode with me and assisted me in winning tournaments and wars. My horse was a full-bodied white stallion. While my footmen took charge of the carts, which contained valuables and food supplies from the village we had robbed the day earlier, they walked on foot while I rode my stallion. The slaves were bound by their hands and feet and made to walk with my footmen guarding them to ensure no one was left behind and had a chance to escape.

  At Voliba, we encountered the Dumnonii tribesmen, lead by their leader, Erbin, who stopped us in our path. The Dumnonii tribes’ inhabitated Dumnonia for centuries. These people lived a relatively isolated life with fishing and agriculture and tin mining being the main economic resource. Erbin was a known bandit who was once a warrior. His war skills were comparable with that of the Romans. He was a proud man.

  ‘Halt!!’ a stern voice said. It was Erbin, the son of Constantine Corneu, who had divided Dumnonia into two parts and gave each son a division to govern. We were now in Erbin’s territory.

  ‘I want your food and your slaves!!’

  Erbin then instructs his footmen to seize our carts and grab our slaves. There was a struggle as my men tried to hold back the prisoners who were being pulled roughly. Some women and children had their hair pulled and dra
gged while the men were beaten into submission.

  ‘Halt!! Erbin, HALT!!!’ I say. ‘Take all that you need and leave us alone!!’

  ‘I want EVERYTHING!!’ Erbin said with a smirk as he walked along our women slaves and held the waists of the beautiful ones. He brought them closer to him but all resisted his advances.

  ‘Erbin, bheir buidire breith ach co bheir ceartas’, I say, this time, more stern and fierce than before.

  ‘Erbin, a witling may give judgment, but who gives justice?’ I shouted as I came down and pulled him away from the slave woman.

  ‘'Is cam agus is direach an lagh, Aidan’, Erbin laughs. ‘Crooked and straight is the law, Aidan. You should know that better yourself’ Erbin continued as he sniggered at me.

  With that, Erbin drew out his sword. I drew out mine and we stood in position, one wanting and another protecting. Both our swords had blood stains on them and ready for battle. Erbin’s sword was straight and sharp while mine was crooked with rough and sharp edges.

  We fought, sword to sword. The sound of metal rippling against each other filled the air as both sides watched with anxiety. At the first impact, Erbin’s sword, the ‘masterpiece’, as he claimed it to be broke in half. ‘HAH!’ I said to Erbin sarcastically.

  ‘A masterpiece, INDEED!! My sword is the true masterpiece in this region!’ I said while admiring my sword.