John Gwynne - Valour

Nathair’s lips twitched in a smile, which made her angrier. Was he laughing at her?

‘So why was he so involved with your family?’

Cywen shrugged again. ‘I don’t know — he and my da were good friends. .’ A rush of memories almost overwhelmed her, her voice cracking. She paused. She didn’t like this, but it was clear that there must be some kind of reasoning behind this questioning, and if she played along, within reason, perhaps she could discern what was going on here.

‘Your brother, he had a wolven with him,’ Sumur said, his accent thick. ‘How did that happen.’

‘Storm? Corban saved her, as a cub.’

‘What did you say?’ Nathair whispered, a frown creasing his forehead.

‘Storm — that is the wolven’s name. He could tell you more; he was there when it happened.’ Cywen nodded at Evnis.

‘During a hunt we stumbled upon a pack of wolven. We killed them, though at some loss,’ Evnis said, pausing. ‘Vonn, my son, nearly died. .’

‘And?’ Sumur prompted.

‘There was a litter of cubs. I killed them all, except one — Corban took it, claimed King’s Justice when ordered to relinquish it. Brenin was not here — he was at your father’s council, I believe — so his wife, Alona, gave judgement. She allowed the boy to keep the wolven. Foolish of her.’

‘No, it wasn’t,’ snapped Cywen. She closed her eyes, could almost see Storm, smell her. And with her, Corban.

‘That wolven nearly ripped Rafe’s arm off, and it killed Helfach,’ Evnis hissed. ‘It should have been put to death.’

Anger swelled in Cywen. ‘You’re the one that should be put to death,’ she snarled at Evnis. ‘You’re the traitor that let Owain in. None of this would have happened if not for you. Corban, my mam, Gar would still be here, my da would still be alive. .’ Suddenly the anger was a white, consuming rage. She snatched for a knife, actually growled as she realized nothing was there and without thinking launched herself at Evnis, fingers clutching for his throat.

Evnis threw himself backwards, eyes wide with shock, but Sumur and Conall were quicker, each grabbing one of Cywen’s arms. Buddai snarled at them both, teeth snapping, not sure whom to bite first. Sumur reached for his sword hilt.

‘Easy, girl,’ Conall hissed in her ear. ‘Your hound’s about to die on your account.’

Instantly she went limp, the anger draining, consumed by concern for Buddai.

‘No, Buddai,’ she commanded. The hound paused, looking at her.

‘Let me go,’ she said. ‘I’ll not do anything. Evnis’ life is not worth trading for Buddai’s.’

Conall released her, nodding to Sumur. The black-clad warrior held her gaze a few heartbeats, then let go.

‘I can’t stay here,’ Cywen said, ‘the smell is making me sick.’ She gave Evnis a withering look, then turned for the door. Conall held it shut.

‘Let her go,’ Nathair said, ‘though I may ask for you to return.’

‘Make sure he’s not here, then,’ she said, and left.

EVNIS

Evnis glared at the closed door, wishing Cywen dead. Who does she think she is, the little brat?

‘I like her,’ Nathair said absently. He looked distracted.

‘So do I,’ said Conall, ‘even if she did try to kill me.’

‘Really. .?’ Nathair raised an eyebrow, focusing on Conall.

‘Aye, on Stonegate, the night of the battle. She threw a knife at me, then, when that didn’t work, she pushed me off the wall. That’s how I got this.’ He touched his bruised cheek. ‘Course, I did pull her over with me. Thought if I was finished she should be as well.’

‘I like her even more, now.’

Evnis snorted and brushed himself down. ‘Was she useful, my lord?’

‘Yes, very.’ Nathair shared a look with Sumur, something passing between them. ‘Have her watched,’ he said to Evnis. ‘I would not have her disappearing in search of her kin. I have a feeling she will be useful. Some of the things she said, they stir memories.’ He drank from his cup, then winced. ‘What is this mead? It really is quite disgusting. What I’d give for a good jug of wine.’

‘Unfortunately we have more bees than grapes in Ardan,’ Evnis said.

‘So. What news of Rhin?’ Nathair asked.

‘I am told she is camped on the banks of the Rhenus, at the northern fringe of the Darkwood.’

‘And what will she do next?’

‘I would imagine she’ll strike south, push through the forest and into Ardan before Owain can muster a force large enough to hold her there. Once she is loose in Ardan there will be no stopping her. That is what I would advise, at least.’

‘I agree,’ Nathair said, sipping at his mead. He frowned absently into the cup. ‘I need to see her. Without Owain’s knowledge.’

‘That will be difficult,’ Evnis said.

‘Yes, I know. But nevertheless, it is what must happen.’

‘Of course,’ said Evnis. ‘I will do what I can, my lord.’

It was late but he could not sleep. Did not want to sleep. Dreams were the last thing he wanted, and he knew they would come. He swirled his cup of usque and sipped it slowly, savouring the liquor’s oily warmth as it slipped down his throat, heat spreading from his gut into his chest.

He was tired, exhausted, trying to keep track of the plots and threads that he had become involved in.

Nathair’s patronage kept him safe, for now. With luck, long enough for Rhin to arrive and separate Owain’s head from his shoulders. But then how would she react to this most recent turn of events, his obeisance to Nathair? Not too well , was his gut reaction. Rhin is famed for her jealousy . And this situation with Nathair was perplexing, and intriguing — there was so much more going on than he could see, situations he could sense, caught from veiled glances between Nathair and his guard, Sumur.

‘What is the link between Sumur and Gar?’ he breathed. Clearly they were of the same people — he had seen them duel, saw the similarities of style and weapons. But how? Sumur is from Tarbesh, more than a thousand leagues away. How is it that Gar is — was — here. And, more importantly, why was he here?

And now he is gone. Escaped with Edana, and Vonn. .

He was surprised by a wave of emotion, a constricting within his chest. He closed his eyes and felt a tear roll down his cheek. Almost immediately his anger stirred. You fool, tears will not help. Use your wits. They have kept you alive this long . His thoughts drifted to the tunnels beneath the fortress. That must have been how they escaped. They may be in them still . He would lead an expedition, but he would need enough warriors with him in case they were there. It would be dangerous.

He smiled to himself. He had warriors of his own, but more than that, he had the book. Found buried in the tunnels dug by the Benothi, the ancient giant clan, builders of Dun Carreg. A book of learning, a book of power. With it he had begun to learn the secrets of the earth power, magic , the ignorant called it. Even as he thought of it he felt drawn to the book. That had been happening more and more of late, as if the knowledge it held was some unseen drug, pulling him back with invisible cords.

Without even realizing, he stood and padded towards the secret door concealed within an oak-panelled wall. With a click it swung open, revealing a small space, room enough only for a small table and one chair. Only Fain and Vonn knew of its existence. He had shown it to them as a place to hide in the eventuality of Owain’s attack, something they had both scoffed at, but he had known Rhin’s plans would bear fruit one day.

He lifted the torch from the sconce, held it high, and gasped.