John Gwynne - Valour

‘What’s that for?’ she said.

‘There’ll be fighting today, and I won’t be able to spend it all watching you. Can’t have you running off in the confusion.’

‘Fighting today?’

‘Aye.’

‘Can I have my knives back?’

‘No.’

‘Why not — I might need to defend myself.’

Alcyon smiled at her. ‘I can see why Veradis likes you,’ he said. ‘You’ve got spirit.’

Veradis? That stilled her tongue.

‘Put your knives out of your head; there’s not a chance in Asroth’s Otherworld that I’ll be putting a blade in your hand. I might like you, but I don’t trust you. And don’t worry; if you need defending, I’ll be the one to do it.’

She couldn’t think of an answer to that, so she just scowled at him instead.

All about her the Jehar were already mounted, waiting. Horses whickered, harness creaked, chainmail jangled, then a horn call rose up somewhere ahead, eerie and muted in the morning mist. The host set off, two thousand warriors riding to battle.

‘The fighting will be at Murias, then?’

‘No more questions,’ Alcyon said. Something in his tone warned her not to press him.

‘I’m glad,’ she said to him.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Glad?’

‘That you’re still alive. That my brother didn’t kill you.’

‘Come, faster,’ he ordered, opening his stride, moving past rows of the Jehar, heading for the head of the column. Shield slowed as they neared Nathair astride his draig, but Cywen encouraged him forward and they fell in beside Nathair and his bodyguards.

By mid-morning the mist had mostly burned away, revealing hills and vales of sweeping moorland, much the same as they had been journeying across for days. Up ahead a lone mountain loomed, dark cliffs soaring into the clouds.

‘Murias,’ Calidus declared.

It was not until the sun was hovering over the horizon that they had ridden close enough for Cywen to make out towers and walls, though the place did not look like any of the giant strongholds she had seen before. The towers looked as if they had grown out of the mountain, as if the rock had been melted and reformed by crude hands. Something organic, rather than built.

The ground started rising, sloping up to meet the mountains. Cywen saw a wide road, cutting a line into long shadows cast by the mountain, leading to a huge arched gateway of carved stone. The gates were closed.

‘Not planning a stealthy attack, then?’ Cywen said to Alycon.

Nathair overheard her. ‘I am the Bright Star, the Seren Disglair,’ he said from his draig’s back. ‘It feels as if I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life; I’ll not lessen it by sneaking up like a thief in the night. This is my destiny.’ He looked at her and smiled.

Have it your way. Though I’m wondering how you think you’re going to get in there. Just walk up and knock on their gates?

In the distance a sound drifted on the air, a wolven howling, as if heralding the coming of night. Buddai whined, and Shield slowed, his head pulling around.

‘Walk on,’ Cywen ordered, digging her heels into Shield’s sides. Buddai was standing stock still, his head cocked to one side. Then he bolted away, back the way they had come, quickly disappearing into the gloom. Cywen called him, reining Shield in.

‘We can’t stop,’ Alcyon said, tugging on the rope about her waist.

‘But Buddai. .’

‘He doesn’t like the look of Murias,’ Alcyon said. ‘Sensible animal. He’ll be out here when we’re done, waiting for you.’

‘But. .’

‘Keep moving.’ It was Calidus who spoke now. After a last look back Cywen urged Shield onwards.

CORALEN

‘Murias,’ Coralen said, pointing into the distance. A tall peak reared before them, the first mountain of a range that faded into the distance.

They had ridden hard since the ambush in the woods, two nights gone. At first she’d thought they would catch the giant, but he had not stopped running for two days and nights solid, each morning the gap between them widening a little.

It had been a shock, seeing the other Jehar in the woods, a lesson of what awaited them once they caught up with Nathair and his warband. Tukul had been grim faced ever since, something unspoken passing between them all.

Blood was going to be shed.

But I knew that, anyway.

She saw Corban gazing at Nathair’s host, a dark line winding its way towards the mountains. They were standing beneath a handful of wind-blasted trees, gnarled and twisted branches grasping at the sky. Everyone had taken the opportunity to dismount and stretch their legs, drink some water, chew on some meat, tend their horses.

‘Nathair,’ she heard Corban whisper.

‘He’s there,’ Meical said, standing close beside them.

‘He killed my da. Put a sword in his chest; right here.’ Corban tapped a finger against his leather jerkin.

Meical gave him a searching look. ‘This is about rescue, not revenge,’ he said. ‘Or is it?’

She saw Corban close his eyes, screwing them shut. After a while he blew out a long breath.

‘Cywen is what matters here,’ he said.

‘Good. There are too many of them for us to take on. Another time. Of course, if there is an opportunity to take Nathair’s head from his shoulders. .’

‘And Sumur’s,’ added Tukul.

Storm was standing nearby, sniffing the air. Suddenly she lifted her head and howled. Dath jumped. Coralen froze, half expecting to see the line of Nathair’s warband stop and look at them.

‘Is she trying to tell everyone within a day’s travel where we are?’ Tukul said.

‘I don’t know why she did that.’ Corban frowned.

‘If we ride hard we’ll catch them by nightfall,’ Tukul said.

‘And then what?’ Dath this time.

‘We find Cywen and get her out of there.’ Gwenith’s lips twitched into a half-smile as she said Cywen’s name.

Coralen looked back to Nathair’s warband crawling like ants towards the mountains. Sheer cliffs rose into the sky before them, peaks wreathed in cloud.

I don’t like this. Murias’ walls are thick, its gates strong. How are they planning on getting in there?

Craf started squawking, hopping about on Brina’s saddle. The bird was looking up at the sky. A black dot was circling above them, spiralling downwards. They all watched the dot grow into a bird, big and black.

‘It’s Fech,’ Brina said.

The raven seemed to study them, eyes scanning the crowd of seventy or so people, then it saw Corban and sailed down to him, alighting on a branch close by.

‘ Corban ,’ it said, then began preening its feathers.

‘Fech, is that you?’ Brina said. Craf cawed.

‘ Fech, yes ,’ the bird said. ‘ Message from Edana, for Corban. ’

What is it?’ Corban asked.

‘ Eremon is dead. Domhain fallen. Edana sails for Dun Crin. ’

The blood in Coralen’s veins turned to ice. ‘What?’ she hissed. She felt dizzy, unsteady on her feet.

‘Edana and the others, are they all alive?’ Corban asked.

‘ When I left them ,’ Fech croaked.

‘You are sure about Eremon?’ Coralen said.

‘ Yes. Saw him die. Girl killed him. Maeve. ’

Maeve. My half-sister, murderer of my da. It was all coming too quickly, the bird’s words taking on a dreamlike quality, like some herald from the Otherworld.

‘Is there anything else? Any more you can tell us?’ Meical asked.

‘ Rhin there. Made Conall ruler of Domhain. ’

With a groan Coralen turned and walked deeper into the stand of trees.