A Time of Courage

by John Gwynne

  Before she realized it, her bow was in her fist, her other hand unclipping the quiver, and her wings were propelling her down towards the battlefield. She saw another warrior in the retreat turn, heading back to Drem, other heads turning. A streak of white feathers shot past her and sped towards Drem. It was the white crow, Rab, whom she had spoken with on the flight here.

  Speaking with a crow! The world is stranger every day.

  Rab flew at the Revenant attacking Drem, talons raking at its head, beak pecking. The Revenant swept a hand up, but Rab’s wings beat, taking him out of reach, and then he swept back in again. At the same time the second charge was beginning, two groups sweeping in from the flanks. She was vaguely aware that Balur One-Eye was leading one side, a huge sword in his hands. She was closing in on Drem now, an arrow nocked, but the Revenant that had leaped onto Drem’s horse was wrapped around him and Rab was still hovering at its head, raking shreds of skin and flesh from the Revenant’s skull. Riv knew she wasn’t the best of shots with a bow and didn’t want to risk putting an arrow into Drem, or Rab. Another Revenant leaped out of the crowd at Drem and her arrow punched into his chest, a blue flash of light and the creature fell back, mouth wide in a scream. Riv’s wings shifted, sending her in a spiral, swerving behind Drem, and now she had a clear shot of the Revenant grasping him. Another arrow nocked, drawn, loosed, and this one slammed into the creature’s back. It arched, threw its head back, but did not let go.

  Revenants were everywhere, all around Drem, grabbing and tearing at his horse. Riv heard it scream, saw it rear, saw Drem draw his short-sword and stab it behind him, into the belly of the Revenant that was clutching him. It fell away, another of Riv’s arrows punching into its face as the gap between it and Drem appeared. The horse’s hooves thumped into the enemies, but there were more, sweeping over Drem and the horse like a tide of rats. The horse swayed, then fell with a crash. Rab flew skywards, escaping a flurry of grasping hands, and hovered over the fallen Drem, squawking in panic. Another two arrows drawn and released in as many breaths, and then Riv was slipping her bow back into its case, snapping the leather clip into place, drawing her sword and was speeding towards the ground. A voice filtered down to her from above, Meical? But the red haze was filling her mind, a rage swelling with every breath.

  She crashed into the Revenants swarming Drem and his mount, her wings buffeting a handful of them to the ground. With a choked snarl she slashed and stabbed, a cascade of blue light erupting as she hacked her way to the fallen warrior. He was on the ground, one leg pinned beneath his horse, which was clearly dead, blood sluicing from a hundred wounds. Drem was desperately fending off Revenants with two blades. Riv powered towards him, took the head from a Revenant as it turned towards her, sliced another in the gut, ripped her blade free, spun and crunched her sword into another’s skull, but more were flooding in between her and Drem. A rider appeared: red-haired Cullen, chopping either side of him, forging a way towards them, but he too was held back by the Revenants. Riv screamed her frustration, leaped into the air, wings beating, slashing down as she tried to reach Drem. A taloned fist grabbed her ankle, tugging her down, and Riv twisted but missed the Revenant, cutting at air. She felt herself sinking, saw teeth and talons rising towards her.

  There was a turbulence of air above her, spears stabbing down, and Meical was there, with Hadran and the other Ben-Elim, and the Revenants fell away like wheat before the scythe. Meical skewered the Revenant clutching Riv, whipped his spear free and thrust it into the mouth of another foe. In heartbeats a space opened up, littered with the dead.

  Riv alighted beside Meical, gave him a quick nod of thanks and moved to Drem. His face was bloodied and twisted with pain. She put her arms under him and pulled, trying to drag him out from under his dead horse, but he did not move.

  ‘Rosie?’ Drem breathed.

  ‘What?’ Riv grunted, tugging to no avail.

  ‘My horse,’ Drem said.

  ‘She’s dead,’ Riv grunted again, saw Drem’s face twist, a wash of grief.

  The thud of hooves and Cullen was there, leaping from his horse to help her, another rider appearing, the old huntsman, Keld. Meical and Hadran faced into the enemy horde, the other Ben-Elim forming up either side, making a protective fist about Riv and the others as a fresh tide of Revenants came at them. All about them battle raged. Riv heard Balur yelling a battle-cry, the screams and snarls of Revenants, other voices, horses neighing, bears roaring.

  Riv, Keld and Cullen tugged and pulled at Drem, leaned into the horse, trying to raise it even half a handspan.

  ‘We can’t hold them much longer,’ Meical yelled, as wave after wave of Revenants swarmed around them, the line of Ben-Elim bending and curling ever tighter around Riv and Drem. She shared a look with Cullen and Keld. The two men threw themselves against the dead weight of the horse; Riv dragged at Drem. He moved a handspan, then was stuck again.

  ‘Leave me,’ Drem grunted.

  A Ben-Elim fell across him, blood jetting from his throat, a Revenant wrapped around him, teeth ripping at the warrior’s face. Riv, Keld and Cullen all stabbed the creature in the same moment. It screeched, spasmed and flopped off the Ben-Elim, but it was too late for him. Another Ben-Elim staggered back into them, fending off teeth and talons. Meical and Hadran fought back to back, Riv standing over Drem and snarling. Cullen and Keld stepped in either side of her, the three of them covering Drem the best they could.

  ‘FLY!’ Meical shouted at the remaining Ben-Elim. They took to the air, eight or nine of them, Meical and Hadran the last to leap skywards, hovering low, still stabbing at the Revenants who now ran at Riv, Keld and Cullen.

  ‘Leave!’ Drem shouted up at them.

  ‘Shut up!’ Riv and Cullen shouted back in the same breath.

  Then Revenants were hurling themselves at Riv and the others. Keld and Cullen shrugged shields from their backs, locked them together over Drem, stumbled as bodies slammed into them. Riv snarled a curse and cut at a belly in front of her, opening up a blue-lined gash. She knew she should fly, take to the air, live to fight another day, as she had done time and time again, but something held her feet to the ground; perhaps it was the courage of the two men standing and fighting over Drem, a loyalty that resonated in her very core.

  She stabbed and slashed, beat her wings, pushing a Revenant back, others all around her now. They were an island fighting the incoming tide. She could only see enemies, the roar of battle building around her, growing louder, like the sea in a storm.

  Talons raked her wings, feathers exploding. She stabbed the Revenant in the face, a blue-crackled explosion of teeth and bone. Her sword arm was grabbed and she was yanked forwards, stumbling onto one knee. A Revenant’s jaws opened around her arm and bit down, her sleeve of mail blunting it, the teeth grinding, grating, but the links of mail held, though pain exploded in Riv’s arm. A spear thrust from above stabbed down into the Revenant’s back and it collapsed. Meical’s face appeared, his hand reaching out for her, but more creatures threw themselves at Riv, and she was rolling on the ground. Bodies blotted out the sky, Riv rolling, trying to swing her sword.

  I’m going to die, the realization hit her. Bleda’s face filled her mind, the thought of never seeing him again. She screamed in rage and frustration.

  The roaring grew louder.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  DREM

  Drem swung his sword, chopping into a Revenant’s ankle, at the same time he swept his seax up, cutting into the open mouth of another Revenant bearing down upon him, seemingly intent on biting his face off. He sawed with the long knife, cut deep into the soft tissue of the creature’s mouth, grated on teeth, and it recoiled. Drem glimpsed booted feet: Cullen and Keld. A flash of Riv’s grey-speckled wings, the warrior on her knees, enemies swarming her.

  I’m getting them all killed. A terror and rage built within him and he writhed, heaving with every ounce of his strength to free himself from Rosie’s corpse. Rosie, who had carried him, obeyed him, foug
ht for him and who would now be the death of him and his friends.

  The roaring grew, bears’ and warriors’ voices mingled.

  Not bears. Bear.

  One of the Revenants grappling with him disappeared. A white-furred paw swept across Drem’s vision, leaving behind a cloud of eviscerated flesh and bone hanging in the air. A deafening roar right above Drem, and a gaping maw and fangs appeared, clamped around the remaining Revenant’s head and shook, tearing the head from its shoulders. The headless corpse swayed and fell away from Drem.

  Two huge white paws slammed down either side of him, the white bear standing over him, roaring its defiance, spittle flying. It swiped left, raking flesh and smashing bone, freeing Cullen and Keld, then swiped right, ripping a Revenant from Riv’s back.

  Drem tugged on his leg, felt a little give, leaned up and pushed futilely at Rosie’s dead weight.

  The bear looked at what Drem was doing with his small black eyes, then swiped at the dead horse, lifting it off Drem’s leg as easily as a cat swatting a mouse. Drem rolled away, gasping as jolts of pain shot up his leg, but he was free. He sheathed his sword and grabbed a fistful of the white bear’s leg, dragging himself upright. Hands gripped him, Keld heaving him up onto the bear’s back. Cullen was hacking at Revenants that were grappling with Riv. In a burst of wings she was airborne, a hand reaching down for Cullen, grabbing his wrist and hoisting him into the air. Revenants leaped at him, Cullen slashing at them, more Ben-Elim appearing, stabbing down with spears.

  The white bear shifted, looked around to regard Drem on its back.

  He’s going to throw me off, Drem thought, but instead the bear turned, a swipe of a paw decapitating a Revenant, and then it was moving, smashing a way through the sea of creatures about them. Drem reached down and grabbed Keld’s hand, hauled him onto the bear’s back. They both clung on desperately, wrapping their fists in fur as the bear’s muscles heaved and bunched, ploughing its way through wave after wave of Revenants.

  They were not as alone as Drem had thought. Byrne and Ethlinn were close by, Alcyon upon Hammer, his twin axes swinging. More giants and warriors were riding in a wedge behind them, trying to cut back into the Revenants.

  Byrne saw Drem atop the white bear and she yelled a wordless cry.

  A dozen paces of being tossed like a branch on a storm-racked sea and the white bear made its way to Byrne, all of them fighting now to break away from the horde. Bodies were everywhere, the ground thick with Revenant corpses, bones and meat crunching and bursting with every step of the bear’s rout. A snatched glance behind showed the ridge was still dense with living Revenants, too many of them to count. They were spreading wide, starting to encircle Byrne and her company.

  A shadow passed over Drem and he looked up, saw Riv carrying Cullen above them. He was white-faced, his maniacal smile gone.

  Utul was close, a savage grin on his face, Shar at his side, her mouth a stern line, as always.

  Utul fought with his flaming sword. He chopped downwards; a Revenant fell away, flames licking its blue-edged wound. Another slash of Utul’s blade and more were reeling away, flames catching in their tattered garments. A gap opened up around Utul.

  ‘BYRNE!’ he cried. ‘They don’t like my fire.’ He slashed again.

  Byrne reached inside a cloak, came out with something in her fist, a vial. She threw it to the ground amongst a swarm of Revenants, sliced her palm and threw droplets of blood after the vial, shouting, ‘LASAIR!’ Fire erupted, a wave of heat, and Revenants screamed, a dozen of them going up in flames, staggering and stumbling, falling to their knees. Others paused in their frenzied rush, some even stepping hesitantly backwards.

  ‘Give them fire!’ Byrne cried, pointing to the effects of her flames, and in a few moments all around her warriors of the Order were throwing vials, shouting ‘LASAIR,’ and flames were bursting around them. The white bear sniffed and snorted, breaking into a shambling run up the ridge, away from the Revenant horde and the spreading flames. Close to the top of the ridge it slowed and stopped, turning around to look back down the slope at the conflict.

  Rab flapped down out of the sky and alighted on the bear’s back, his feathers ruffled.

  ‘Drem safe, safe,’ Rab squawked. ‘Rab happy.’

  ‘My thanks for your help, brave Rab,’ Drem said, stroking the crow’s head.

  ‘Brave Rab, brave Rab,’ the white crow croaked, head bobbing up and down.

  Islands of fire burst into life in a rough line, quickly feeding on Revenants and the dry plains grass, spreading to form a wall of flame, the Revenants reeling away, standing and hissing at the blaze. Byrne shouted orders and riders were moving left and right, throwing more vials, shouting words in their Elemental tongue, and in a score of heartbeats the wall of fire had spread huge distances across the ridge. In another thirty heartbeats it was out of control, the wind swirling and spreading the flames in all directions.

  Byrne came galloping up the ridge, her face covered in black soot, the survivors following behind. Ethlinn was bleeding from claw marks across her cheek; many others were wounded, but it looked to Drem as if most of their number were still standing. Byrne reined in next to Drem and the white bear.

  ‘You were too slow,’ Byrne said breathlessly, her mouth a stern line.

  ‘I saw Arvid,’ Drem explained, shifting on the bear’s back. ‘One of Gulla’s Seven.’

  Byrne’s mouth softened a touch. ‘Where?’ she said.

  Drem tried to see through the flames, but black clouds of smoke were billowing across the ridge, flames crackling as high as a stockade wall. He shrugged. ‘She was close when the horn sounded, but not close enough.’

  Byrne put a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘I am glad you’re not dead,’ she breathed, a flicker of relief and emotion sweeping her face. She looked back at the sheet of fire and the faint outline of Revenants beyond. Heat was rolling up in great, pulsing waves. Drem could feel the hairs on his face prickling. ‘That will slow them, at least. And it will allow Nara and her people to reach Dun Seren safely.’

  Something landed on Drem’s cheek. He looked up at the sky, dark clouds bunching above them. Another raindrop splashed on his nose.

  He looked back to the fires blazing on the slope.

  Byrne held her hand out, raindrops landing on her palm.

  She stood tall in her saddle. ‘Well fought,’ she cried. ‘Now for the walls of Dun Seren while the fires still burn. I don’t think our enemy will be far behind us.’

  A flapping of wings and Riv was descending from above, Cullen held tightly in her grip. His face was pale as milk.

  ‘You could be more grateful,’ Drem heard Riv say, as Cullen’s feet touched the ground. He dropped to his knees.

  ‘Don’t let her near me, ever, ever, again,’ Cullen said with shaking hands.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Drem asked.

  ‘I don’t like heights,’ Cullen managed to say before he vomited onto the grass.

  Rab made a squawking, croaking noise that sounded to Drem suspiciously like laughter.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  FRITHA

  Fritha cut the leather cords binding Asroth’s arm to the anvil, then stepped back, her own arms from her hands up to her elbows thick with blood.

  Asroth’s blood.

  She smiled, looking slowly around the chamber. A dozen Kadoshim were all staring, but not at her.

  Asroth stood with his right arm raised in front of him. He looked at his new hand, a thick line of stitches around his wrist, clotted blood crusting around seared flesh. Asroth made a fist.

  ‘It feels . . . strange,’ he said. Knuckles cracked and popped as his fist clenched tighter. He spread his fingers, wiggled them, looked at Fritha. ‘Will this ever feel right?’

  Fritha shrugged. ‘Ask Wrath,’ she said. ‘His wings work well enough.’

  Asroth smiled at that. ‘Ask a draig,’ he muttered, shaking his head.

  ‘It will feel stiff and alien at firs
t,’ Fritha continued. ‘The more you use it, the more natural it will feel. And it will feel better with the gauntlet on,’ she added.

  Asroth reached for the gauntlet, lifted it and slipped his new hand into it.

  ‘It is cold,’ Asroth observed.

  ‘I am not finished, yet. It needs a leather liner. Let me help you.’ Fritha stepped closer, reaching for leather cords that threaded under the wrist.

  When it was secure Asroth flexed it, twisting his hand. After long moments of studying it, flexing the fingers, twisting to test the articulation, Asroth looked at Vald’s corpse.

  ‘Lift him up,’ he said. Bune and Choron grabbed the dead White-Wing and held him before Asroth.

  ‘On the anvil,’ Asroth grunted, and they lay him upon the huge slab of iron. Asroth stood over him, then raised his hand, curled it into a fist and slammed it into Vald’s face.

  The head exploded, blood, bone and brain spraying. Asroth pulled his fist away and there was nothing recognizable of Vald left, just a pulped mess of meat and fluid.

  ‘Huh,’ Asroth grunted, ‘it works, then.’ He looked up at Fritha and wiped a chip of bone from his cheek. Then he took a step towards her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him, crushing her lips to his.

  For long moments Fritha was lost in a dark storm, a whirlpool of black water pulling her ever deeper.

  ‘Ha!’ Asroth exclaimed, as he released her from his embrace. ‘And to think, once I hated all you humans. I have to concede, Elyon may have been onto something in your creation. You can be quite useful when you set your minds to it.’

  Kadoshim laughter rippled around the chamber, more like hissing and spluttering. Fritha found it unsettling, though she was only dimly aware of them. Asroth’s closeness and his attention were dizzying. She could still taste him.