Valour (81 page)

People were dying. Of starvation, of the fever that swept the stronghold, a score of other diseases winnowing away the weak. Every day wains were pulled through the streets, clearing the
dead.

A procession appeared in the street below, warriors forcing a path for it: a grand carriage pulled by two glossy black stallions. Eremon and Roisin sat within. The carriage halted by a stairwell
close to the gates and Eremon and Roisin disembarked, warriors escorting them up the stairwell to the walls.

A figure with blonde hair squirmed its way between Camlin and Halion – Halion’s half-sister, Maeve, the one who was sweet on Corban.

Camlin looked back to the giants’ road, saw that the party was close to the gates now. A woman rode near the front, a black cloak of sleek fur about her. Silver hair fell about her
shoulders, shining like liquid starlight.

‘Rhin,’ Edana hissed from beside him.

Warriors were about her, most in the colours of Cambren. One close to her wore the black and silver of Tenebral, his hair close cropped like all of their warriors. Another sat on his horse with
the hood of a cloak pulled up over his head, his face in shadow.

Rhin reined her horse in and gazed up at the wall above Dun Taras’ gates.

‘Eremon, are you there?’ she called out, ‘or are your legs too frail for the stairs? Come, speak to your kinswoman. We have not talked in an age.’

‘I am here,’ Eremon called back, stepping closer to the wall’s edge. His voice was loud and deep, belying his age. ‘Though I don’t think you’ll have much to
say worth listening to.’

‘Time will be the judge of that,’ Rhin said. ‘You look tired, kinsman. Age knocking at your door?’

‘I’m not the only one getting older,’ Eremon called back. ‘Your face looks like my arse – saggy and creased.’

Good
, thought Camlin as laughter rippled along the wall.
He still has his wits, at least.

Rhin scowled at that, but before she could respond a screaming burst from the road behind Camlin. He turned to see a crowd surging around Eremon and Roisin’s carriage, pulling at the
horses. One of them was neighing wildly, rearing and lashing out with hooves. The other was stumbling as blood gushed from a wound in its neck. Warriors rushed to protect the animals from the
hungry mob.

‘Trouble in your streets?’ Rhin called as the noise quietened, warriors restoring a frayed order.

‘Only of your doing,’ Eremon replied.

‘I can fix that.’

‘Aye, you can. By leaving my country. Go back to Cambren. We’ve already bested your warriors in combat. Save yourself a long hard wait through the cold and go home.’

‘Bested my men in battle? If that were the case, why did your warband run all the long way from the border to here? And why do they hide inside your walls?’

‘It was not your warband that won any victory. It was your allies from Tenebral who turned the battle. Tell them to stand down and the men of Domhain will finish the lesson they began
teaching your men of Cambren.’

Camlin could see the effect of Eremon’s words in those about Rhin, her shieldmen scowling. Ragged cheers spread along the wall, some even drifting up from the streets behind.

‘I’m not here to talk about the past; it’s the future that needs our attention, before any more of your people starve to death. This can all stop, today. Now.’

A silence fell upon those on the walls. Even Camlin felt drawn to listen, despite knowing that what Rhin said was unlikely to be anything good.

‘Step down, Eremon. You are an old man, in the twilight of your life. I will give you your life, to enjoy how you see fit. Just renounce your throne, and your heir—’

‘No,’ a shout rose up, fraying at the edges. Roisin.

‘Ah, your wife is there, too. Or should I call her your mistress? I have heard that it is she who rules Domhain, not you, Eremon. Should I be talking to her, or you?’

‘Be silent,’ Eremon hissed to Roisin.

‘I rule Domhain; no one else,’ Eremon said louder.

‘Then rule now, do what is best for your people. Step down. You cannot win. Domhain will be mine. You will be conquered. Both roads lead to that point, but one is littered with your people
dead – through starvation and battle – the other can be reached peacefully. No more death. Just hand over your crown.’

‘I do not think the people of Domhain would like you for their mistress,’ Eremon called back.

‘They do not have to have me; only the regent I leave in my place. One of your own, a man of Domhain, a warrior, with the blood of kings flowing in his veins. Your blood, in
fact.’

With that she beckoned the hooded man forward and pulled back his hood.

Camlin blinked, recognizing the face but not being able to place it in this context. Then he heard someone close by whisper the name.

‘Conall.’

It was Maeve who spoke it first, taken up by a hundred others, a thousand, rippling along the wall like a wind soughing through long grass. Halion just stared, his face hard and cold.

‘So you have something to think on,’ Rhin said. ‘I’ll be back at highsun on the morrow to hear your answer.’

Camlin sat at the table in their kitchen, wrapping sinew about iron arrowheads, tying them to a bundle of arrow shafts he had cut and left in a local smokehouse to dry out.
He’d already fletched them. He finished the one he was working on, placed it in a pile, then took another unfinished shaft.

He had spent the rest of his day here, after Rhin’s speech. The five of them, six if you included the bird, Fech, had hurried back to their rooms through streets thick with unrest.
Conall’s unveiling had had an effect similar to a boot kicking an ants’ nest. Everywhere there seemed to be activity, people standing in groups, talking, arguing, where only the day
before the streets had been deserted.

‘We should have expected it,’ Edana said. ‘Rafe told us that he lived, and that he was Rhin’s first-sword.’

‘It is a clever move,’ Marrock said. ‘It gives people a way out of starving without losing any honour. And Roisin is hated, which makes matters worse.’

‘Halion, are you well?’ Edana asked.

Halion was sitting with his head in his hands. When he looked up his cheeks were stained with tears. ‘He’s my brother. Once things seemed so simple, just the two of us against the
world.’ He took a shuddering breath and sat straighter.

Camlin felt a stab of sympathy for the man.
How old is he? Not yet thirty summers, I’d guess, yet he is forced to be older, more like Conall’s da than his brother. Responsibility
has been the force that guides his every choice.

‘There was always something dark in Conall’s heart,’ Halion continued. ‘A bitter seed. Evnis and Rhin have cultivated it, and now I do not know who he is. Rule Domhain!
He should have laughed at the thought, and refused it. Who has he
become
?’

‘The enemy,’ Vonn said clearly. ‘That is what he has become. He stands with the woman who plotted the fall of Brenin, of Alona, and Edana. Not just their fall, but their
deaths. She would see Edana dead still. Sharing the same blood sometimes is not enough.’

They all looked at Vonn then; he rarely spoke, and never about his da, Evnis. Even though he had not used his name, they all knew it was him that Vonn was speaking of.

Fech fluttered nearer to Edana at Vonn’s words, as if his closeness would somehow protect her.

‘What will Eremon do now?’ Vonn asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Halion said. ‘If it were me, and I was sure of my people’s loyalty, I would wait longer – hope that they would resort to an attack while we
are still safely behind these walls. But I don’t think that Rhin is that stupid. Geraint maybe, but not Rhin. She will be happy to wait until we’ve all died of starvation and
there’s nothing left but the bones of the dead.’

‘And I do not think the loyalty of your da’s people can be guaranteed,’ Edana said.

‘No. So he must do something. And soon. Perhaps muster an attack.’

‘It would need to be something clever to beat that wall of shields,’ Marrock said, ‘otherwise it would just be warriors marching to a certain death.’

‘What’s your advice, Fech?’ Edana asked the raven. She had taken to talking to the bird more and more as if it were a human, and what was more, a wise one. Camlin wasn’t
wholly comfortable with that.

‘
Kill Rhin
,’ the bird squawked. ‘
Sever the head, the body wriggles and dies.
’ He snapped his beak as if to emphasize his point.

‘Aye, good advice,’ Marrock said. ‘It’s just the how that is a problem.’

‘I am sorry,’ Halion said. ‘For bringing you here. I should have listened to you, Marrock. We should have gone to Dun Crin.’

They all looked at him in silence, none knowing what to say.

‘Do not blame yourself for this,’ Marrock said. ‘All along you’ve done what you thought was right. I cannot fault you for that. And who is to say that things would have
fared any better at Dun Crin? For all we know, our heads could be on spikes by now. We live. We have one another, oaths and friendship that bind us.’ He held Halion’s gaze until the
warrior nodded at him.

There was a knocking at the door, a warrior from the keep.

‘Eremon wants to see you,’ he said. ‘All of you.’

Almost silently they passed through the streets, the only movement a rat in the gutters. That surprised Camlin: there had been a distinct drop in the number of animals
wandering Dun Taras’ streets – even down to dogs and rats.
Disappearing into people’s bellies.

Camlin heard a sound in the distance, faint but growing. The roar of a crowd. An orange glow floated like a nimbus in the sky, highlighting buildings in the direction the noise came from, and
the sudden smell of burning wood hit his nose and throat. There was a sense of tension amongst them, like a rope pulled taut, close to tearing. They picked up their pace and soon were walking into
the keep. Warriors stood vigilantly beneath flickering torches. The group was eventually ushered into Eremon’s chambers.

The King and Roisin were there, along with Rath. His wounds had almost healed, though Camlin saw a stiffness in his movements. A pair of serving-girls hovered, refilling Eremon’s cup as he
drained it. One of them was Maeve.

‘Thank you for coming,’ Eremon said. His eyes were sunk to dark hollows. He held out a hand to Edana and she stepped forwards and took it.

‘You must leave, tonight,’ Eremon said. ‘I have sent messengers ahead. A ship will be waiting for you on the coast. Baird will take you.’

‘What?’ Edana said.

‘I shall muster my warband on the morrow and order them to give Rhin battle,’ Eremon said. ‘The sensible choice is to stay behind these walls until they try and climb them, but
I think my people would have opened the gates to Rhin before then. We are likely to lose,’ Eremon said. ‘We have no answer to their wall of shields.’

‘We will stay and fight,’ Edana said.

‘No. I am not asking you to leave, I am telling you, as one of my last acts as King of Domhain.’ He patted her hand. ‘You are young, but with a wise head on your shoulders,
Edana. You are the best hope for all those who would stand against Rhin. You must not throw your life away.’

‘But where will I go?’

‘My ship will take you to wherever you wish to go. My advice would be to sail back to Ardan, to the south-west and the swamps of Dun Crin. I have had word that a resistance to Rhin grows
there even now. Go back to your people, and lead them.’

A frown wrinkled Edana’s brow as she considered his words.

‘I will do as you say,’ she said. She leaned forward and kissed Eremon’s cheek. ‘I thank you for all that you have done for me. You may yet win the day. Your warriors are
brave, and Rath is no fool.’

‘If Rhin’s host fought like honourable men we would have won already,’ Baird muttered.

‘Do not think me so selflessly kind,’ Eremon said. ‘I have one thing to ask you, in return for safe passage on my ship. Take our son, Lorcan.’ His eyes flickered to
Roisin. ‘I know that you have agreed to be handbound to him, but if Domhain falls and I die then it is your choice whether you honour that agreement or not. Either way, take him to safety
with you.’ He smiled at her then. ‘And for myself, I hope that you and Lorcan do marry. You’ve good hips on you – there’ll be plenty of fine children, I’m
sure.’

This man would have been good drinking company
, thought Camlin.

‘I’ll go, as you ask,’ Edana said, blushing. ‘But why do you not come as well? We could all leave, now.’

Camlin watched them all carefully, saw the redness around Roisin’s eyes, the way Eremon’s gaze dropped to the floor.

They have already discussed this
, Camlin thought.
Disagreed about this.

‘I cannot run,’ Eremon said. ‘My people may be in the process of choosing another over me, but they have not done so yet. I cannot just abandon them.’

‘But if you stay and give battle, many will die. If you run, you will be saving lives,’ Edana said. ‘Bring your loyal shieldmen, let them live to fight another day.’

‘I cannot slink away like a kicked hound,’ Eremon snapped. ‘I will not do that.’

This honour thing
, Camlin thought.
It has its downside. I’d not think twice about running away.
He looked at Edana.
Or maybe I would.

A silence settled on the room. Maeve stepped forward with a jug and refilled Eremon’s cup. Camlin saw her hand was shaking. She spilt some ale, then dropped the jug. It smashed on the
stone floor, shards exploding.

For an instant all eyes were on the jug. Then Camlin saw Maeve move, a glint of metal in her hand. She lunged forwards and drove a knife into Eremon’s throat, blood gushing in a steady
pulse.

Everyone moved at once: Maeve diving across Eremon’s kicking legs towards Edana; Rath, Baird and Halion surging towards Maeve; Roisin rising from her chair.

Edana lifted her arms, an instinctive reaction, but Maeve was not aiming at her. They collided but Maeve was rushing with her knife at Roisin, scoring a gash across her ribs. Then Rath had Maeve
about the waist, was hauling her away. The knife clattered to the ground as he twisted her wrist.