John Gwynne - Malice

At the same time the counsellor dipped his head and muttered something. The flames of the cook-fire suddenly sprang up, higher than a man and leaped forwards, cutting a line between Nathair and his companions, leaving the Prince on the wrong side, alone with the giant and counsellor.

Orcus took a step towards the flames and staggered back as they flared in his face, the heat searing.

Veradis heard the scuffling of feet as the rest of their warband poured over the ridge behind him. On the far side of the flames he could see the blurred figures of the giant, Nathair and the counsellor. The giant had drawn his huge sword and was levelling its tip at Nathair.

Veradis sucked in a deep breath, ducked his head behind his shield and ran at the flames.

CYWEN

Where are they? thought Cywen as she ran her hand down the foreleg of a large roan colt — Gar had asked her to check over a number of horses while he was gone. She grunted as her fingers found a small lump on the underside of the horse’s hoof.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked the horse trader who owned the colt.

‘He’s lame,’ she said with a shrug, absently pushing back a strand of dark hair fallen from her pin.

‘What?’ said the trader, eyes narrowing, staring at Cywen down a long, thin nose.

‘He’s lame,’ Cywen repeated.

They were standing in a roped-off section of the meadow amongst rows of horses brought for the Spring Fair. Cywen was having the time of her life. First Gar had asked her to help him choose and haggle for the new stock that Brenin wanted bought in, and on top of that he had asked her to aid him with the King’s horses. It had been as close to a perfect day as she had ever known. That was, until she had seen Dath with a face as long as one of the horses she was tending. He had told her everything, but only after she’d threatened him with a fist in the eye. Poor Corban , she thought, swinging between worry about him and anger at Rafe. She felt a swell of rage, imagined punching Rafe’s arrogant face. No, Mam’ll skin me if I’m caught fighting again . And now Gar had been gone for so long, saying that he must go and find Corban. Now she was beginning to worry about him as well. With an effort she focused back on the horse trader in front of her.

‘Where is Gar?’ the thin-faced trader asked.

‘Not here,’ she shrugged. ‘He said he had urgent business, could be gone all day. Like I said, the horse is lame. I’m sure Gar would still be interested, but not at the price you’re asking. Come back next spring, if you’d rather barter with him.’

The trader scowled, moaned a little more but still accepted the coins that Cywen offered her, then walked away stiffly, muttering under her breath. Cywen smiled to herself and patted the roan’s neck.

‘That was well done,’ a voice said from behind, startling her. She turned to see a tall, willowy girl, long golden hair framing a pretty, serious face.

‘Thank you,’ she replied. Then she recognized her. ‘You’re. .’

‘Edana, and you are?’ the young princess said.

‘Cywen. I help, at the stables. Thannon the smith is my da.’

‘I’ve seen you before, mostly with Gar, around the stables. I just didn’t know your name, that’s all. You handled that trader very well.’

Cywen smiled. ‘The horse is lame, but not for long. Look.’ Cywen lifted the roan’s foreleg, resting the upturned hoof above her knee, Edana looking over her shoulder.

‘See here,’ Cywen ran a finger over a lump on the tender part of the hoof. ‘Watch.’ She pressed the tip of the knife to the lump and gently sliced the skin. ‘This has been here a while, the skin has grown thick,’ she explained. Grunting in concentration she continued to cut carefully away at the tough skin. Placing her thumb behind the lump she pressed, and, with a pop, the skin burst, yellow and green pus leaking out. The horse’s muscles twitched. Cywen murmured soothingly, still applying pressure with her thumb until the cut stopped weeping.

‘That’s disgusting,’ said Edana.

‘We’re not finished yet.’ Cywen dipped a cloth into the water trough next to her and began cleaning the wound. She pressed the knife’s tip firmly into the cut, pushing hard on the other side with her thumb.

‘There it is,’ she whispered, pulling a sliver of wood from the cut. She held a long thorn up for Edana to see. ‘He’ll be fine now.’ She grinned, slapping the horse’s neck.

‘How did you know that was there?’ said Edana.

She shrugged. ‘Gar has taught me a lot.’

‘He has indeed.’

Something caught Cywen’s attention over Edana’s shoulder, a flash of blond hair, a familiar swagger. Rafe. ‘Watch the colt for me,’ she blurted as she broke into a run, ducking under the rope that ringed the paddock. She sped through the crowds and with a loud thump threw herself into Rafe’s back. They both fell to the floor with a crash, limbs tangled.

‘How do you like it?’ she shouted, jumping clear of Rafe as he rolled over. She aimed a kick at his stomach and leaped upon him again, raining down a furious barrage of blows. They rolled on the ground, Rafe trying to protect himself, then Cywen was grabbed and hauled off.

‘Get off me!’ she screamed, squirming in the grip of Vonn and Crain, aiming a last vicious kick at the prostrate Rafe.

‘Calm down, wildcat,’ Vonn said.

She struggled a moment longer, before realizing that the two holding her were not about to let go any time soon. Rafe groaned, holding his stomach as he rolled onto his side and rose unsteadily. He was covered in grass stains and mud, his fair hair sticking out wildly in all directions. A thin trickle of blood ran from his nose.

A crowd had gathered around them, and someone laughed. Rafe’s cheeks coloured.

‘Are you mad , girl?’ he said, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand. He glanced at the crowd. ‘You should be more careful, you’re lucky I didn’t hurt you.’

‘ You’re the lucky one,’ she snapped. ‘Lucky you’ve got two bodyguards to protect you.’

‘What illness do you have,’ Rafe said, ‘that causes you to attack innocent people? From behind, like a coward.’

Cywen renewed her struggling; Rafe began to laugh. It spread round the crowd as Cywen tried more and more frantically to break the hold on her wrists, spitting and snarling at Rafe.

‘Please, stop,’ Vonn said, ‘or I’ll have to ask Rafe to fetch a bucket of water to cool you down.’

‘He’s — the — coward,’ Cywen grunted, but stopped struggling. ‘Rafe. He’s been doing his warrior training for over a year, picking on someone who hasn’t even set foot in the Rowan Field.’ She spat at Rafe. ‘Have you got round to learning the code yet? Or are you too slow-witted to understand it?’

Vonn’s face creased in a smile. ‘Got some spirit, hasn’t she?’

Rafe’s eyes narrowed. ‘Your brother needed to be taught a lesson, as do you,’ he hissed, a fist bunching as he took a step towards her.

‘ Stop ,’ cried a voice from within the crowd. Rafe paused, fist still balled as a slim figure stepped out of the mass. It was Edana, mouth set in a stern line, her back straight as she strode into the circle that the crowd had formed.

‘Let her go,’ she snapped, shooting a withering glance at Crain and Vonn.

‘We would not have harmed her,’ Vonn said, releasing Cywen. ‘Just didn’t want her harming Rafe.’

‘She attacked me,’ Rafe said, licking his lips. ‘She should be taught a lesson.’

‘A lesson?’ said Edana. ‘Well, maybe, but not by you, Rafe ben Helfach. I’ve heard what your father’s lessons are like, and I would not wish that on anyone. Even you.’ Rafe coloured.