Valour (30 page)

The vision faded, shifting into something else: columns of the Benothi marching through empty fields, the landscape behind them black and charred, the walls of Dun Taras fading in the distance.
They had walked away from Dun Taras, fled before the tide of mankind.

It will be ours again. A new order is coming. And I will do what needs to be done to make it so
.

He glanced over his shoulder, saw Eisa and Struan crawling up the slope, the others standing still, almost invisible amongst the rocks and trees far below. Eisa and Struan settled either side of
him.

After gazing for a long while on Dun Taras, Struan whispered, ‘What now?’

Uthas rolled onto his back and searched the sky. It was cloudy, the air humid, heavy. Rain was coming. Amongst the clouds a black dot moved. Uthas beckoned and the dot spiralled lower until Fech
landed beside him.

‘We can go no closer,’ Uthas said. ‘Can you fly to Dun Taras, seek out Eremon, listen to his plans.’

‘
Fech is good at listening and seeing
,’ the bird said and flew away, winging towards Dun Taras.

Was that a threat?
Uthas thought.
What will he tell Nemain when we return to Murias?
He watched Fech fade and disappear, then he made his way down the slope to his companions. A
hundred and fifty leagues they had travelled since they had left Murias in the cold north. Over a moon had passed since they had raised a cairn over Aric’s body and placed the heads of their
enemies about it.
That will give Rath cause to fear us again, or whoever else discovers it. Too long we have been timid, fearful
. They moved silently through the boulders and stunted trees
that blanketed this rolling land of hill and vale. In time they came to a stream and followed it deeper into woodland until they eventually came to a great boulder, part of a cliff face that rose
before them. Uthas found the cave entrance and passed through the glamour that had hidden it for over a hundred years. Fray struck a light with his flint and soon they had a small fire burning.
Then they settled in for the wait. Fech would know where to come.

Eisa passed him a skin, more brot. He pulled a face but took it and drank some. It had kept them alive, fuelled their journey south, into the heartland of their enemy. Twice they had come close
to being discovered, but Fech had given them good warning both times, and Uthas had been more interested in speed than battle. He had already blooded his followers, bound them closer to him through
that act. They were more his than Nemain’s now.

Nemain
.

The thought of her made him sad. Once great Queen of the Benothi, but fallen so far, her fear binding her, disabling her.

She should have fought for our lands, used the cauldron. She should have bargained with Asroth and ensured the survival of our clan
. Instead she had done nothing, claiming the
Benothi’s sole purpose now was to keep the cauldron from being used, thinking to avoid another war.

But war is coming, no matter what she does to evade it.

Ever since he had met with Asroth, in Rhin’s cell deep within the walls of Dun Vaner, he had felt like a blind man gifted with sight, as if scales had fallen from his eyes.
The way
forward is so clear, but Nemain refuses to see it
.

He had tried to reason with her, to advocate a more active, aggressive policy, but she had refused to see sense. He still clung to the hope that she would change her stance before it was too
late, but until then he would pay her lip service and continue to work with Rhin towards their greater purpose. At least he had managed to sway others within the Benothi, and he hoped more would
side with him, before the end.

He was glad Nemain had sent him on this mission, scouting into Domhain to learn Eremon’s plans. He had counted on it, even, for it kept him within Nemain’s good graces whilst
allowing him to further Rhin’s plans. The journey south had told him that Eremon was paying little attention to the events in the east, to Rhin’s attacks on Narvon and Ardan. No
warriors were mustering, no crops were being stored. Eremon sat idly by and sank deeper into his dotage. Rhin would be pleased.
She will be here soon. Rhin.
He felt a smile twitch his
features at the thought of seeing her. His captor, his saviour. They had a bond he could not deny, complex and deep, its waters murky.
But our goal is clear, and I will see it through or die in
the trying; we are united in that. Soon the Black Sun will appear, will come for the cauldron. And I will help him claim it
.

The next part in that task would be to grab Eremon’s attention and direct it north. Uthas would slaughter and burn on his way home, make such a noise as Domhain had never heard. He would
lead Domhain’s strength in warriors north, fix Eremon’s attention on Benoth, then when Rhin had finished with Narvon and Ardan and finally came west she would find Domhain open and
unprepared.

He rolled up his cloak and laid his head upon it. Looking at Dun Taras had stirred a melancholy within him as deep as bones. He searched for sleep to erase the ache. Besides, Fech would not be
back today.

Uthas woke with a start. Salach was sitting with his back to the cold rock, running a whetstone along his axe-blade.

‘You were dreaming,’ his shieldman said.

Uthas touched his brow, his fingers coming away damp with sweat.

‘How long have I slept?’

‘A day. They are amazed at you,’ Salach said, glancing at the other giants in the cave. Some were standing, restless, others huddled in conversation.

‘How can you sleep now?’ Fray asked him. ‘When we are here, amongst our enemy, in the heart of our homeland.’

‘I’ve been here before,’ Uthas said, ‘and besides, when you have lived as long as I, sitting in a cave, no matter where it is, is not very exciting.’

Salach chuckled.

‘How long have you lived?’ Eisa asked then.

‘I forget. It has been a long time. I was a bairn, not yet grown my whiskers when the Scourging changed our world.’ He tugged at the white hair on his face, bound with thin strips of
leather.

‘It is true, then. You drank from the cup.’ Kai this time.

‘I did,’ Uthas said. Since the slaying of Skald, the first king, immortality had been stripped from giants and men. But then the cup had been forged from the starstone. The cup was
one of the Seven Treasures, and drinking from it gave health and long life. Not immortality, but close enough.

‘How long will the cup sustain you?’ Struan asked. They had all gathered about Uthas now, regarding him with a new emotion in their eyes. Awe.

‘I do not know,’ Uthas shrugged. ‘Nemain drank from it before I, and she is still here.’
Though she squanders her time, choosing to sit on the cauldron like some
skeletal chicken
.

The Benothi giants had emerged from the War of Treasures the clear victors, possessing three of the Seven Treasures. The cauldron, Nemain’s necklace and the cup. Two had been lost now,
which went some way to explaining Nemain’s obsessive protection of the cauldron. The necklace had been hidden in Dun Carreg as the walls had been breached and overrun, the giants holding the
stronghold had been slaughtered to the last warrior. The cup had been lost in Domhain.
Somewhere out there
.

Uthas hung his head in shame. He had lost the cup, or at least had been in charge of the column in possession of the cup as it had been evacuating from Dun Taras. They had been ambushed in the
marshlands further north; the wain the cup had been kept in sank into the swamp. He had returned so many times, his shame driving him, sending him hunting for the lost Treasure, but never with any
success.

A flapping echoed about the cave and Fech appeared through the glamour that sealed the entrance. The bird searched out Uthas and alighted before him. It walked in a small circle, then ran its
beak through the feathers of one wing, regarding Uthas with its shiny eyes.

‘Well?’ Uthas said.

‘
Eremon is old, he is scared of change
.’

‘So what are his plans?’

‘
He did not say. He is idle. He did little more than watch women
.’

‘Good news, then,’ Uthas said.

‘
Not all good. Rath is coming
.’

‘What do you mean, coming?’

‘
He found the dead, in the north. He is on your trail. He is hunting you.
’

It was still dark when Gar shook Corban awake. Without speaking, the two of them slipped into the sword dance. Dawn crept over them soon after, picking out Vonn standing on
watch, the others rising and setting about the ritual of breaking camp.

Others were sparring about them with cloth-covered weapons as Corban finished the dance.

‘Where are Halion and Marrock?’ Corban asked, noticing their absence.

‘They left in the dead of night with Camlin,’ Vonn answered his question. The young warrior had been withdrawn and silent since the book had been taken from him. ‘My guess is
another visit to our pursuers. Maybe just scouting, though I guess at more.’

Gar grunted an agreement.

Corban didn’t know how to feel about that. He had hated the last night attack, especially the killing from shadows. Even though he knew it was an act driven by survival, it had still felt
like cowardice. But there had been a sense of camaraderie that had grown amongst them because of it, of risks taken, danger shared. Part of him felt disappointed at being left out this time.

‘Do not look so disappointed,’ Vonn said with a bitter twist to his lips. ‘I offered to go with them but they refused me. Perhaps they do not trust me.’

Being Evnis’ son will not help you, and keeping the book a secret did you no favours, either
.

‘Trust has to be earned,’ Gar said.

‘Aye. As does honour,’ Vonn replied, then walked away.

Corban shared a look with Gar.

‘Corban,’ Brina called him, hovering close by with Heb.

‘It’s time we started,’ Brina said.

He saw she had the book they had taken from Vonn in her hands.

‘Learning to be an Elemental, you mean.’

‘Yes, Ban.’

He felt scared suddenly, as if he were standing at the opening of a dark tunnel. ‘Why do you want to teach me?’ he asked suspiciously.

‘Because you’re expendable,’ Brina snapped. ‘If something goes wrong and you end up melted it won’t matter too much.’ She strode away.

Heb sighed. ‘It’s a compliment, Corban,’ he said.

‘Is this something to do with what Gar said – about me being
chosen
.’ There had been a number of silent stares at Corban since Gar’s shocking confession.
He’d even caught Dath and Farrell looking at him oddly. ‘You should pay it no mind, you know. Gar’s clearly confused . . .’ he trailed off, knowing that Gar did not seem the
type to be confused about anything.

Heb regarded him silently. ‘Not for Brina’s part.’

‘Then why me?’

‘Brina likes you, Corban.’ Heb smiled, Corban snorted. ‘You must understand: there is a gateway to great power contained in that book, something that must be guarded. In the
wrong hands untold damage could be done. Brina trusts you. Do you think she would want to teach just anyone – Dath, for example, or Farrell?’

‘I don’t know,’ Corban said.

‘Not even Edana or Marrock. You are the only one she will consider teaching. Brina trusts you.’

He felt strangely pleased at that thought. Honoured, even. ‘All right, then,’ he said to Heb. Together they followed Brina into the cover of the trees.

‘I’ll take the risk of being melted,’ Corban said to her, ‘though my mam may have something to say about that.’

Brina’s lips twitched.

‘We’ll start with a lesson,’ Heb said.

‘Of course you will,’ Brina muttered.

‘Once all were Elementals,’ Heb continued, ignoring her. ‘It was part of the All-Father’s design; giants and men were the overseers or guardians of creation, and so they
were gifted a certain authority over that creation – specifically the elements of fire, water, earth and air.’

‘That is how we summoned the mist, during our escape from Dun Carreg,’ Brina interjected.

Corban nodded thoughtfully. ‘How did you learn these powers? Were you born with them?’

‘It is not something that just happens, like clicking your fingers,’ Brina said. ‘A bairn is not just able to wield a sword.’

‘No,’ Corban said, ‘but some take to it better than others.’

‘There may be something in what you say,’ Heb conceded, frowning. ‘This book talks of two paths to power. One is the way that Brina and I know a little of. The other . .
.’

‘The other we shall not speak of,’ Brina said.

Heb regarded her a moment, then shrugged. ‘Suffice to say that blood seems to be important. There are suggestions that some bloodlines are stronger; perhaps a purer lineage from the first
men. And then there is the use of
actual
blood; from a living body—’

‘I said we will not speak of that,’ Brina snapped.

‘As you wish. You must understand, Corban, that this is not set out plain. Brina and I have spent years putting scraps of knowledge together.’