Valour (29 page)

Just then figures walked through the hall’s doors: Evnis and a handful of his shieldmen – no one here seemed to move without a guard – Conall, the warrior he had sparred with
earlier, was close to him.

‘He was lucky,’ Bos said, nodding at Conall. ‘You should’ve beaten him.’

‘He was fast,’ Veradis said. ‘And I’m not so used to fighting like that now; spent too much time in the shield wall.’

‘Excuses,’ Bos chuckled.

‘Not excuses, he fought well. Just the truth.’ It
was
the truth, Veradis having felt vulnerable and slow from the first strike of their practice swords. He would have to make
sure his training was more balanced from now on – make time for both shield wall and individual sparring. He had already done that today, after his bout with Conall moving on to train in the
Field with Nathair’s eagle-guard, then travelling out of the fortress, down to the meadows beyond to check on his warband and oversee their training.

He had enjoyed the day. But now he was back, summoned to a meeting with Nathair and Owain, the King of Narvon.
Back to the politicking. I’d rather leave that to Nathair and Calidus
.
Lykos had already left, the Vin Thalun sailing with the dawn tide, taking his ships and his Vin Thalun warriors with him. That had been Calidus’ idea, and a sensible one – Lykos had
looked set to drink Dun Carreg dry if something had not been found for him to do. He had taken half the fleet, only the shallow-draughted attack galleys. The troop carriers would not be able to
travel where Lykos was going.

As if Veradis’ thoughts had summoned them, Calidus and Alcyon walked through the hall’s doors. Dark looks and murmurs spread about them, suspicious eyes watching Alcyon as he passed.
Veradis felt a stab of anger at these people, at their ignorance, but understood their distrust. Once upon a time he would have felt the same, but Alcyon had saved his life once and – more
than that – Veradis had glimpsed his humanity. And it came as a surprise to him that he liked Alcyon, had almost come to consider him a friend.

Calidus saw Veradis and beckoned him to follow. The three of them marched through the keep’s high-arched corridors to Nathair’s chambers. Veradis noticed more of the Jehar warriors
spread about the keep, standing unobtrusively in alcoves and shadows; more of them materialized the closer they came to Nathair. It gave him a sense of security.
No one will come close to
Nathair without their permission, and if anyone is more fanatical about Nathair’s safety than me, it is these men
.

Nathair barely acknowledged them as they entered; he had been withdrawn for some time, since they had questioned the girl in the dead of night. Veradis had felt uncomfortable about that, so many
of them breaking into her house, probably terrifying her half to death. The conversation with her had clearly affected Nathair, and not only him. Calidus had been uncharacteristically short
tempered.
You should not have let the boy escape
, he had said. It was the closest Veradis had heard anyone come to reprimanding Nathair.

‘Sit down,’ Nathair said, waving a hand. ‘Owain has asked me to meet with him soon; things are gathering pace here. A confrontation with Rhin is not far away.’

‘Owain will want to know where your allegiances lie,’ Calidus said. ‘You have a lot of men about you. Enough men to decide a battle.’

‘I do. More than enough, when over two thousand are Jehar warriors and a thousand of my eagle-guard are trained in the shield wall,’ Nathair said. He smiled grimly at Veradis.

‘We must still be cautious,’ said Calidus. ‘You may be guarded by the Jehar, but even their skill can be overwhelmed by weight of numbers, and you sleep in the heart of
Owain’s lair. Things are balanced on a knife-edge here. Dun Carreg, Ardan, the west – it is volatile and likely to change at any given time. The maps are being rewritten.’

‘I know.’ Nathair grinned. ‘It is exciting. The new age we have heard so much about, spoken about, it is being formed around us. Right now.’

‘Yes, it is,’ Calidus said. ‘And you are certain of your path?’

‘Yes, and so I must play my part here, to make that happen.’

‘What of Evnis?’ Veradis asked. ‘You have given him an important part in all of this. Can he be trusted?’

‘Yes,’ Calidus said emphatically.

Veradis looked at him but the silver-haired counsellor said no more.

‘Do not worry about Evnis,’ Nathair said. ‘I have his measure. And, besides, even if he were to disappoint me, it wouldn’t be disastrous. Not with you watching
him.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes. I want you to watch Evnis, keep him alive. I think he will prove to be useful. And, as you will be watching him closely, you will soon know if he means to betray me.’

‘Aye.’ Veradis frowned. ‘But I am not best suited to that kind of task.’

‘There is one other that must be watched,’ Calidus said, ignoring his protest. ‘The girl, Cywen. Her brother may return for her. We must find that boy.’

‘I know,’ Nathair said, scowling into his cup. ‘I should not have let him escape.’

‘What’s done is done,’ said Calidus. ‘And there was much happening, at the time. But we must do all in our power to right the mistake.’

‘What is it about the girl’s brother?’ Veradis asked.

Nathair looked at him, his gaze dark. ‘Calidus thinks we have uncovered Asroth’s Black Sun.’

‘You giants made good roads,’ Veradis said to Alcyon.

‘All the better to speed us to our enemies,’ Alcyon said. ‘That is the giant clans – always rushing to their deaths.’

They were marching along the giantsway, Dun Carreg a faint shadow on the horizon behind them. Warriors in their thousands marched before them, the bull of Narvon on banners everywhere. Owain had
decided that marching out to meet Rhin in open battle was the best thing to do.

‘I will not cower behind stone walls,’ Owain had said when he had summoned Nathair to his chambers. ‘I have had reports of her numbers, and know that I have more men than she.
And she will not expect us to ride out and meet her on the open field.’

Nathair had questioned the wisdom of such a move, but Owain’s will was set.

‘I will make an end to this, once and for all. And Ardan is mine. I have conquered it, slain Brenin; it is mine by right of conquest, and I will not have that old spider hemming me into a
fortress and lording it around the land while watching me starve to death.’

Nathair had said little during the meeting, listening far more than he spoke. Owain had been rambling – a man weighed by a thousand burdens. All that he said came down to one thing:
‘Will you fight for me?’ he had asked. ‘You have a sizeable warband here, and I have seen what a hundred of your Jehar can do.’

‘I am reluctant to shed my people’s blood over your and Rhin’s affairs,’ Nathair had replied. ‘I will have my own battles to fight soon enough.’

‘Fight for me and I shall join your alliance,’ Owain had countered, almost pleading.

‘I have already given you great aid, opened the gates of Dun Carreg to you, stopped Brenin from forming a resistance while you stormed his fortress. I would think that such acts would have
been enough for you to join with me,’ Nathair had retorted.

‘I will not be able to join you and your alliance if Rhin has my head on a spike, and you would surely rather have me as an ally than her. You cannot trust her, the scheming
bitch.’

‘Do you think that Brenin was right about her – that she manipulated your war against Brenin, and then struck when Brenin was dead and you weakened?’

Such a look had passed Owain’s face then – doubt, shame, fear. ‘How can that be possible? Marrock was seen leaving my Uthan’s chamber after he had been murdered. No, I
think she is greedy, opportunistic and she saw two realms ripe for the taking. But I am not dead yet. She has underestimated me . . .’

Owain had ranted on, seeming almost to forget that anyone else was there. In the end Nathair had not committed himself, had told Owain that he would talk with his counsellors and speak more on
the morrow. That had been two days ago. Veradis had not been present at the final meeting between Nathair and Owain, but Nathair had clearly committed to some level of aid, as their marching with
Owain’s warband testified.

Nathair rode some way ahead of Veradis. He was sitting upon his draig, the great beast almost filling the width of the giantsway. Horses gave it a wide berth, especially as it looked at them as
if it wanted to eat them. Nathair had told Veradis that that had been one of the hardest things in his training of the draig back in Jerolin – to teach it not to chase and kill any horse that
trotted past it. Nathair was surrounded by a sea of the Jehar, all clad in dark chainmail, curved swords jutting from their backs. Beyond them the red of Narvon flowed along the giantsway,
disappearing into the distance. Veradis had a thousand eagle-guard with him. The survivors of his warband from Forn were all mounted, whilst the recruits that Lykos had brought from Tenebral
marched in orderly ranks; the sound of their iron-shod sandals cracking on the stone of the giantsway filled the air. Just in front of Veradis’ column rode Evnis, two or three score of his
shieldmen about him, Conall amongst them. Beside Conall rode the girl, Cywen, a brindle hound padding at her horse’s hooves. She had spent most of her time scowling at Evnis. Veradis grinned
to watch it, though if she were as good with a knife as Conall had said, then he worried for Evnis’ safety, particularly as Nathair had charged Veradis himself with keeping the man alive.

‘There’ll be no giants to kill at the end of this march, though,’ Alcyon said, unusually talkative. ‘It will be men that we are killing at this journey’s end. How
does that sit with you, king’s man?’

‘If they are Nathair’s enemies it does not matter what shape they take; man or giant, I will slay them if I can.’

‘Well said,’ called Calidus, riding his horse back down the line from Nathair. He pulled in beside Veradis and spoke more quietly. ‘Be on your guard, and keep a particular eye
on Owain’s rearguard. The King of Narvon is unpredictable at present and likely to behave impulsively.’

Veradis looked over his shoulder. Beyond his own warriors more of Owain’s men brought up the rear, at least half a thousand mounted men.

‘I will.’

Calidus spurred his horse back to Nathair.
Has he really uncovered the identity of Asroth’s Black Sun?
Veradis had always expected it to be some king or man of power, but from what
he had been told, this boy – Corban – was a blacksmith’s son, no one of consequence.
Maybe Calidus is right. It is a cunning way to grow in secret, a deception from the very
beginning, which would be fitting as Asroth’s champion. Calidus knows best, and he has guided us well so far. I hope the boy is the Black Sun, for then I will stand a chance of meeting him,
and his companion, this Gar. I will see Rauca avenged
.

Nathair had told him how Rauca had died – defending Nathair from this Corban’s father, and that afterwards Gar had attacked silently, taken Rauca by surprise. Rauca had deserved
better. But time could not be reversed, and nor could the dead be brought back to life.

But they can be avenged
.

Five days out from Dun Carreg, well before highsun, Veradis heard horns blowing further ahead. Word slowly filtered back down the column that Rhin’s forces had been
sighted. It was half a day before Veradis’ warband saw them.

Owain’s forces had drawn up on the slopes of a gentle hill, spilling in a disorderly crush either side of the giantsway. All seemed to be chaos, with horns blowing, men shouting, oxen
bellowing as they were led from the giantsway, pulling wains to a makeshift camp on the hill’s crown. To the north-west marshland stretched to the sea, shimmering in the summer sun.
Rhin’s warband was spread on a plain below them, tents in the distance; a mass of men on foot dominated the centre, whilst mounted warriors were loosely grouped on both flanks. Veradis stood
and stared at them a while, the sounds around him fading as he focused.

‘How many?’ Bos said beside him.

‘Six, six and a half thousand men.’

‘And us?’

‘Between us and the Jehar Nathair has three thousand swords. Owain commands at least nine thousand warriors.’

‘She will lose, then.’

Veradis looked at his friend, shielding his eyes from the sun. ‘Time will be the judge of that, but I have heard that she is cunning. I think she may have more planned than what we can
see.’

‘Best keep our wits about us, then,’ said Bos.

‘Aye. And our swords sharp.’

Uthas crawled through the long grass and wildflowers, up an incline. He stopped when he reached the top, gazing in silence.

Dun Taras stood in the distance, its smooth walls reflecting the morning sun. It had been one of the giants’ great fortresses once, alongside Dun Carreg and Dun Vaner, before the hordes of
men had come to Benoth. Now Eremon sat upon its throne, ruling all he could see from its high tower. Uthas felt his blood stir, yearning for a lost time. He blinked tears, saw a memory superimposed
on the landscape, of his kin gathered on green meadows, celebrating the Birth Moon. Bairns playing in the river, diving and plunging after salmon, the men gathering in contests of strength,
throwing tree trunks or the hammer. He walked amongst them, laughing, smiling . . .