John Gwynne - Malice

‘A good day for it,’ Thannon rumbled beside him, and squeezed his shoulder.

‘Aye,’ Corban said, and felt a queasiness in his stomach.

Halion was leaning against a weapons rack and smiled, raising a hand when he saw Corban.

‘I’ll wait here,’ Thannon said, ‘watch Storm for you.’

Halion gripped Corban’s forearm in the traditional manner. ‘The Rowan Field welcomes you, Corban ben Thannon,’ the warrior said formally.

‘The Field honours me,’ Corban gave the expected reply, and tried not to glance away from Halion as warriors began to fill the Field.

‘I have something, for you.’ Halion pulled a spear from the weapons rack. ‘I think its weight should suit you.’

Corban took the spear in two hands, and held it horizontally. Its haft was carved from pale ash, with dark veins swirling through it and an iron butt capping its end as a balancing weight. The blade end was leaf-shaped, one long, sinuous curve from tip to hilt, unlike the wedge-shaped blades he was used to. Testing its weight, he lifted the spear to shoulder height, and found the balancing point almost immediately. It suddenly felt weightless.

Halion grunted approvingly.

‘My thanks,’ Corban said.

‘It flies true. I thought it would serve you better than these battered things,’ Halion said, glancing at the spears in the rack. ‘It has served me well.’

‘Is this a custom, where you are from?’ Corban asked, frowning, suddenly realizing he had no gift in return.

‘A custom? No, lad. I just have enjoyed teaching you. And this will be our last day. It is good to mark times such as this with a gift.’

Corban smiled. ‘Again, my thanks.’

‘Come, find a target, get used to it a little before we begin.’

Corban approved, as missing the target before countless warriors was not how he hoped to begin his warrior trial. They strode towards the straw targets and found an open space. Conall marched across the Field towards them before they could make further progress. He was scowling when he reached them, his usually handsome face flushed with anger. ‘I had your message,’ he said, ‘or summons.’

‘I just needed to see you, Con,’ Halion said.

‘What for? More orders?’

Halion frowned now. ‘Aye, that’s right.’

Conall folded his arms, and waited.

‘You’ll be guarding Edana as usual, but she’s been given leave from the keep, so be vigilant.’

‘I am a warrior, Hal, not a nursemaid.’

Halion sighed. ‘It is a position of honour,’ he said slowly, Corban thought perhaps not for the first time. ‘And you need to rebuild Brenin’s favour.’

‘Favour. Honour,’ Conall spluttered, ‘to nursemaid a child . Why do you treat me so?’

‘I am trying to help you, Con,’ Halion said sharply.

‘This is my last day of it,’ Conall retorted as he turned away. ‘Evnis has offered me a place in his hold. I shall stand under your shadow no longer.’

Halion made to speak, but Conall was gone before he could get the words out.

‘Ach,’ Halion spat, the anger on his face shifting into sadness. He looked at Corban. ‘All my life, it seems, I’ve been trying to help him.’

‘He’s ungrateful,’ Corban said impulsively.

‘No, Ban, he just does not see it as help. Pride blinds him. Maybe it is I that have been wrong.’ He shook his head. ‘Anyway, you have other things more pressing than my brother’s temper. Cast that spear, lad.’

So Corban did. His first throw was a little high, but he soon had the measure of Halion’s gift and marvelled at the difference it made.

The Field was busy now, and he spotted many familiar faces, bar one. Then Gar too entered the Field, riding Shield, the stallion’s brown and white coat glistening with sweat.

‘Good, then,’ Halion said. ‘We can begin.’

The warrior measured out forty paces from a straw target and marked the spot with his boot-heel. ‘Begin your spear trial, Corban ben Thannon,’ he said loudly. Then, more quietly, ‘Don’t rush it because you have an audience. Wait till you find the place.’

Corban nodded, his mouth suddenly dry.

Setting his feet, he hefted the spear, lifted it to his shoulder and sighted the target. He concentrated on the sounds around him, focusing on the target as he’d been taught, the sounds fading until all that was left was his heartbeat, the weight of the spear and the target before him.

Then he threw.

The spear arced through the air, landing with a thunk about a handspan above the target’s centre.

‘One,’ Halion called out.

Six more times Corban went through this process, allowing himself a smile towards Thannon and his other watchers only after his last throw. Next, Halion approached to present him with a practice sword.

‘I’ll test your forms first, Corban,’ Halion said. ‘No different from what we usually do.’

‘Aye,’ Corban said, feeling better, now, more at ease. He rolled his shoulders and swung the practice blade in some sweeping arcs to loosen the muscles in his back and arm.

Halion set his feet, raised his sword, and Corban attacked. He came at Halion with a high double-handed grip, methodically moving through the forms Halion had taught him, using footwork and sword angles to strike first at the quick-kill areas, throat, heart, groin, then the slow-kill points, then the places that would maim or disable but were not of themselves fatal. He tried to keep all Gar had taught him separate, but parts of the sword dance would creep into his attacks, usually making his movements more fluid. One strike would flow into another, reducing the response time of his foe.

This was not at all like the Darkwood, where death had hovered close, but where instinct had overcome his fear. Here he was enjoying himself. He felt himself smiling, a kind of fierce joy taking hold of him as he struck at Halion faster and faster, making the new first-sword of Ardan work hard. Halion moved with a grace all of his own, though, and although he was hard-pressed the warrior’s guard was not broken.

There was a momentary lull as Corban realized he had passed through all of the forms. Halion stepped back a pace, raised his hand and grinned at Corban. ‘That was well done,’ he said, then marched over to a weapons rack, returning with a battered shield for Corban.

Corban saw that quite a crowd had gathered around him, faces recognizable as he glanced around: Evnis and Vonn, Helfach and Rafe. They were all staring, most with surprise on their faces, even Thannon and Dath. Corban frowned, not sure what had just happened. He caught Dath’s eye then, and saw something in his friend’s face — awe? Then he was slipping his left arm into the shield-straps and preparing for the second half of the sword trial.

This time Halion did the attacking, testing Corban’s defensive skills, and Corban found himself more hard-pressed. Gar had never used a shield, so Halion had taught him all he knew here. Still, he did well, blocking the attacks, though many of them only just, and soon his left arm was numb as blow after blow shivered through it into flesh and bone. A few times he almost stepped into an attack of his own, the urge instinctive and close to overwhelming, wanting to use both sword and shield as a weapon; but he resisted, remembering this was a defensive test.

In time, Halion stepped back. ‘We are done here,’ the warrior declared.

Now Corban retrieved his spear and he saw Gar leading Shield out towards him.

This is it , he thought. The running mount, and then his warrior trial was finished, only the Long Night left before he passed fully into manhood. He felt his breath catch. He had become lost in the trial, in the moments of spear, sword, shield, strike and block, but now the enormity of it settled upon him again.