John Gwynne - Valour

‘I’ll not be killing you, my brother. Not this day; not ever.’

CORBAN

The land around Corban changed from rolling heather to rocky scree. They had talked long and hard about plans of approach, how exactly they were going to take Cywen from among close to two thousand Jehar.

‘She is bait to trap you, so she will be kept close to Nathair,’ Meical had said. ‘So all we need to do is find Nathair.’

‘That looks like a big fortress,’ Corban had commented.

‘Nathair is here for the cauldron. Find the cauldron and we find Nathair. Find Nathair and we find Cywen. How we shall then take her from him is another matter.’

In the end the plan was a simple one. They would abandon stealth for speed. A battle would be going on, between the giants of Murias and Nathair and his Jehar. It would be chaotic. This was their best and only opportunity. They were riding quickly at a ground-eating canter, the cliffs of Murias looming high above now, night upon them. The moon was a pale glow behind streaks of cloud. Corban glanced to either side, saw Gar and his mam, Tukul and Meical, Dath, Brina, Farrell and Coralen; Storm and Buddai loped in the shadows. Behind them spread three score Jehar warriors. His kin, his friends, others, all come to this place because of him. Their lives, their deaths — all his responsibility because of his decision.

Focus, now, as Gar’ taught me a thousand times. There is only now, this moment, and the one that follows . .

Then he was passing the first bodies, horses and men fallen together, their flesh torn in strips, raked down to their bones. They slowed to a trot, picking their way through the human and equine detritus. Black feathers sprinkled it all, sticking to blood, floating on the breeze.

They moved past the concentration of bodies, the open gates looming closer. Corban saw movement to the left of the gates, amongst the rocks. It was a big black raven on a granite boulder, hunched by a corpse and pecking at itself, muttering.

‘Fech, is that you?’

‘Y es, I am Fech. Fech Fech Fech. I am a selfish, disloyal bird. Selfish, selfish .’ The raven resumed pecking himself. Corban saw blood welling through his charcoal feathers.

‘Stop that,’ Brina snapped as she slid from her horse and picked her way through rocks to the raven. Craf fluttered out of the sky and alighted on a boulder close by.

Tukul and the Jehar fanned out before them, protecting against any attack.

‘Don’t do that to yourself,’ Brina said, grasping the raven.

‘ Deserve it, deserve it, deserve it ,’ the bird muttered.

If it is possible for a bird’s voice to express an emotion then I am hearing abject misery , thought Corban.

Meical followed Brina and stared at the body on the ground. From its size it was clearly a giant, probably female from the long black hair, though otherwise it was hard to tell. It was lying with limbs splayed at unnatural angles, most of its features a pulped ruin.

‘Is that Nemain?’ Meical said.

‘ Yes ,’ wailed the bird. ‘ Nemain, Nemain, Nemain .’

Meical looked up. Corban followed his eyes and saw a balcony high above, the curved shadow of a doorway or window behind it.

‘Nemain would not just fall,’ Meical said. ‘And someone opened the gates of Murias.’

‘ Uthas ,’ Fech spat. ‘ Uthas killed her. Uthas the betrayer. Peck his eyes out and eat them. Should have returned sooner. Sooner, sooner .’ He tried to peck himself again, but Brina gripped his beak. Craf flew over, landing on the same boulder as Fech. He peered at the raven, then shuffled closer and began running his beak through Fech’s ruffled feathers.

I s Craf grooming him? Is he being nice?

‘Will you help us?’ Corban said.

‘ How? ’ Fech asked when Brina let go, cocking his head to one side.

‘We need to find the cauldron,’ he said. ‘Take us to it.’

‘ Cauldron is bad, ’ Fech said. ‘ Why go there? ’

‘Because that is where Nathair will be, and he has my sister. We have come to save her.’

‘ I know ,’ Fech muttered. ‘ Save Cywen. Fech remembers .’

‘Yes, that’s right. Will you help us?’

‘ Help me kill Uthas .’

‘He will probably be with Nathair,’ Meical said.

‘ Nathair’s at cauldron ,’ Fech croaked. ‘ I take you to cauldron, you find sister, we kill Uthas. ’

‘Agreed,’ said Corban. He didn’t want to become embroiled in hunting and killing anyone right now, but if it meant finding Cywen quickly, then it was worth doing.

‘ Come ,’ Fech squawked and flapped into the air, flying towards the open gates of Murias.

They followed Fech through the open gateway. A wall of sound hit them. Battle was raging, though mostly at the far end of a cavernous chamber. Clearly many had fallen. Closer to them, bodies littered the floor, men and giants and horses, all bleeding into the dark stone. Corban saw Gar and Tukul tense as they saw Jehar locked in battle with giants.

‘ Too many. Can’t go that way ,’ squawked Fech as he flew back from the far end of the hall. Follow me, come, come ,’ and he winged away towards the edges of the room. He took them to a wide stairwell that spiralled up. No one made a move towards them; if any saw Corban and his followers they were too busy to do anything about it. In seconds they were all dismounted and running up the stairs, trying to keep up with the bird. Corban drew his sword and flexed the wolven claws strapped to his other arm.

Cywen, we are coming .

CAMLIN

Camlin reined in his horse.

‘There it is,’ Roisin cried, pointing.

The sail of a ship had come into view, poking above a ridge in the road. The sea churned behind it, an undulating blanket melting into the horizon. Camlin was glad to see it; a ten-night of hard riding south-west to the coast had set muscles aching that he didn’t know he had. Their column set off again, fifty or so riders. Camlin hung back a little, saw Edana’s fair hair up ahead, flanked by Marrock and Vonn. Though this is no end. Just the beginning of the next race. At least it will give us some breathing space, though . He glanced over his shoulder, looking for the tell-tale signs of their pursuers.

For three days now he had glimpsed riders following them, a cloud of dust marking them that suggested many more than their fifty horses. Now though, green hills behind hid anyone from view, and the clouds were low and thick, masking any dust trail.

They’re back there somewhere, but we just need long enough to jump onto a ship and row away . He dipped his body low against his horse’s neck and willed it to gallop faster.

He had told Marrock and Halion of the pursuit, and they had in turn told Edana and Roisin, the word spreading through the warriors. A bleakness had settled over them that night, the knowledge of pursuit suggesting that Dun Taras had fallen. Baird had picked a fight with one of Quinn’s men, knocking the man cold for little more than a lingering glance. Halion had had to step in before Baird had taken on a dozen others. Quinn had challenged Baird, of course, but Halion had forbidden it, saying they were all on the same side, and to save their anger for the enemy, if they ever caught up. Camlin suspected that Quinn had not really meant the challenge, anyway; he had backed down too easily, although he had glowered at Halion’s back afterwards. Camlin had not liked that. He’d heard the man was proud and arrogant, and nothing he’d witnessed during their journey had dissuaded him of the notion. Besides that, anyone with the title of first-sword didn’t take well to being told what to do by another warrior.