'We are to be met by Kanin nan Horin-Gyre. It is an honour,' smiled Aeglyss.
'The Horin-Gyre Bloodheir? They're the ones doing this? Well, he could just as easily have met us in Anduran, beneath a roof.'
Aeglyss shrugged. 'Who knows why the powerful do the things they do? I am told he wanted to meet us outside the town.'
'He'll only kill us anyway,' muttered Anyara. 'Probably wants to do it out of sight.'
'Oh, not you, my lady,' Aeglyss assured her. 'He was content to have some of your family taken alive. He can find a use for you, I am sure, or his sister will. If you want to fear someone, I would choose her.'
He glanced at Inurian, who was pointedly ignoring the exchange.
'Your friend here may be another story, naturally. The Bloodheir may well prefer to see him dead. Unless I can dissuade him, of course.'
With a show of boredom, Inurian looked up. 'None of the Gyre Bloods are renowned for their clemency. I doubt such as you can sway him.'
'Such as I? I brought the White Owl clan to his Blood's side. If the White Owl had taken up their spears against him instead of being his guides and feeding him, how could he have brought his army through Anlane? Without me, he would not now be camped at the gates of Castle Anduran. I think you will find that the Horin-Gyre Bloodheir remembers his friends.'
'The White Owl will not thank you for what you have done,' Inurian said.
'What do you care, Fox?' snapped Aeglyss. 'They'll thank me well enough when the Lannis Blood is gone.'
Inurian looked over towards the dour group of warriors gathered beneath the awnings.
'Better Lannis than the Inkallim and the Bloods of the Black Road. The White Owl will learn that soon enough.' He turned back to Aeglyss. 'Was your mother or your father of the White Owl?'
The younger man hesitated, taken unawares by the question. For a moment it seemed that he might not answer.
'My mother,' he said. 'And my father was of the Horin-Gyre Blood, so have a care what you say, old man.'
Inurian regarded him for a moment. 'You must have been born not long after the battle at Tanwrye thirty years ago,' he said. 'Your father escaped into Anlane after the Horin-Gyre army was defeated? He was taken by the White Owl?'
The blow came too quickly for Inurian to avoid it. Aeglyss struck him hard across the side of the face, knocking him to the ground. Anyara lunged at Aeglyss, but he pushed her away. Inurian lay there for a few seconds, then righted himself. Blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. It was washed away by the rain.
Aeglyss laid a single finger upon Inurian's chest. His eyes were brimming with cold anger. Anyara could see a muscle clenched so tight in his jaw it might have been a rod of iron laid over his bones. She had a terrible, momentary sense that the na'kyrim was about to burst and spill some awful, burning spirit of anger and hatred over them.
'Better not to speak of things you know nothing about,' Aeglyss hissed, and rose to his feet. 'Let's wait and see what Kanin wants to do you with you,' he called over his shoulder as he stalked back to join the Inkallim.
Anyara turned to Inurian, a look of concern on her face. Inurian spat inelegantly.
'I'm fine,' he said. 'His parentage would appear to be a sensitive subject.' He leaned a little closer to Anyara. 'Have a care of that one. Whatever happens to me, keep away from him. He may be more dangerous than I thought.'
'He seems dangerous enough already,' Anyara muttered.
Inurian shook his head. 'It's mostly bluster. Beneath the surface, he's all bound up in a knot of anger and pain. He is poisoned by it. Nevertheless, there is more power in him than he knows. When he's angry like that, I can feel the Shared in him like a thundercloud. If he knew how to draw upon it, he would be capable of a great deal.'
'In any case,' said Anyara with forced lightness, 'nothing's going to happen to you.'
Inurian smiled at her. 'Just remember. Stay away from him.'
There was a sudden flurry of activity amongst the Inkallim. They were getting to their feet. Peering out through the grey rain, Inurian and Anyara could just make out a group of riders coming towards them across the farmland.
'It's Kanin,' said Inurian. 'The Bloodheir is coming.'
The heir to the Thaneship of the Horin-Gyre Blood was a tall, strong man in his late twenties. His heavy black hair was matted down by the rain. It gave him a roguish, rather bedraggled look. Had Anyara not known who he was, she might have thought him handsome. Instead, she felt the stirring of hatred. Of all the Bloods of the Black Road, it was Horin-Gyre, with its strongholds at the northern end of the Vale of Stones, that had always posed the greatest threat.
A dozen warriors of his Shield had come with the Bloodheir. Their mail hauberks rang softly as they dismounted. They tied their horses at the edge of the copse, ignoring the Kyrinin amongst the trees, and came back to stand in a loose group behind Kanin nan Horin-Gyre.
Aeglyss went to greet the Bloodheir. Kanin brushed past him without even meeting his gaze. He looked around, his sharp eyes running over the Inkallim who were coming one by one from beneath their shelters, the Kyrinin warriors now getting to their feet amongst the trees, and finally Inurian and Anyara, bound upon the wet grass. He smoothed his hair back from his face with a leather-guantleted hand, watching the prisoners intently.
'Who is the halfbreed?' Kanin asked. His voice was strong, imbued with the instinctive authority that was his birthright.
'Kennet's counsellor,' said Aeglyss eagerly. 'We thought he might be of some value.'
Kanin walked towards Inurian and Anyara. His warriors followed. He knelt on one knee and took Inurian's chin in his hand, forcing his head around so that their eyes met.
'I have heard of you, I think. Inurian, is it?'
Inurian remained silent. Kanin released him and turned to Anyara.
'The Thane's niece, I presume,' he said. There was a hint of suppressed mirth in his eyes and the set of his mouth. 'A pretty prize.'
Anyara scowled at him.
'But not in a pretty mood, it would appear,' said Kanin as he rose to his feet. 'You had better accustom yourself to new arrangements. This valley is returning to its rightful owners.'
'You have tried that before, and failed,' said Anyara tartly.
The Bloodheir laughed. It was a rich sound. 'Not this time. This time the past will be buried.'
He turned towards the Inkallim. 'Kolglas?' he asked.
One of the warriors stepped forwards, all languid precision and restrained power.
'Burned,' he said.
'And Kennet and his son?'
'The Thane's brother is dead. The boy escaped across the water, but was wounded. He is probably dead by now.'
A tiny moan escaped Anyara's lips. Kanin ignored her.
'Probably,' he said, sarcasm tingeing his tone. 'So a child has escaped the famed Battle Inkall. All the Lannis line was to be dead or taken. That was important.'
The Inkallim's mouth tightened.
'We answer to Shraeve. She commands the Battle Inkall here, not you.'
For a moment, the two men faced one another in the drizzle. Watching them, Anyara understood more clearly than before that the Inkallim were something more than just warriors. This man glaring at the son of the Horin-Gyre Thane did so with the silent will of an equal, drawing upon some strength, some core, that removed any need for deference.
Kanin relaxed and wiped his face. 'Very well. You'll find Shraeve somewhere by the market square. You can tell your story to her. At least we have the Thane and his brood shut up in his castle.' He shivered, then smiled at Anyara and Inurian. 'This weather of yours is inhospitable. We had best get you to shelter in the city. I've picked out fine accommodation for you.'
He turned on his heel and made to remount his horse. He stopped abruptly, as if remembering something inconsequential that had slipped his mind until this moment. He looked at Aeglyss.
'I do not want the White Owls to come any further, halfbreed. Tell them if they are seen any closer to
the city than this, we will treat them as our enemies.'
Aeglyss blinked, starting almost as if he had been struck.
'I thought . . .' he began.
Kanin raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. A flicker of contempt slipped into his voice as he spoke.
'You would not be so rash as to argue with me?' he asked. 'The White Owls have what they wanted - the Lannis Blood broken - and we have no further need of them.'
'Your father said...'
'Do not overplay your hand, halfbreed. My father lies in his sickbed in Hakkan, and I carry his authority here. This is Horin-Gyre land now, and I will not have wights wandering freely across it. You may enter Anduran if you wish, but not them.'
'The White Owl will be . . . disappointed,' said Aeglyss. 'Others - some of their leaders - are not far behind us. They will wish to meet with you, to confirm the pledges made by your father. The settlements in Anlane are to be razed, a gift of cattle and iron made. I promised them these things on your behalf, as your father wished.' Anyara noted a strange, soothing kind of resonance slipping into the na'kyrims voice.
Kanin's expression suddenly darkened and he took a resolute step closer to Aeglyss.
'If I thought, for even a moment, that you would seek to play games against me with your voice, halfbreed, I would split your skull. I know well enough what tricks you are capable of. You may have clouded the minds of the woodwights with your sweet tones, and since they have served my needs because of it, I'll not complain. But do not make the mistake of thinking you can attempt the same with me.'
The rain was growing heavier. Kanin wiped the gathering drops from his brow and shook his head a little. He spared a glance for the Kyrinin watching them from amongst the trees.
'When you promised my father you could bring the woodwights to our side, he made an agreement with you. Now it is over. I want nothing more to do with your savages and I will certainly not be summoned to meet with them. Look at them: forest folk dressed in animal skins. If they want cattle, have them take these.' He gestured towards the animals grazing a short distance away. 'If they want settlements razed, let them do it themselves, but I warn you, if they burn a single building within a day's march of Anduran, I will kill you and then hunt them down. If they are disappointed tell them to remember that we will be lords of Anduran soon. We make unforgiving enemies.'
Aeglyss opened his mouth to speak, but Kanin was already swinging up into the saddle.
'I have more important matters than this to occupy my time. See that the woodwights do not follow us,' he said to one of the shieldmen at his side, 'and bring the girl and the other to me in Anduran.'
With that, the Bloodheir spurred his horse violently, and it bounded forwards across the field. Three of his band went after him. The others remained, staring at Aeglyss, who looked around hesitantly. The Inkallim were already bundling up their equipment. A few of the Horin-Gyre warriors rode over to Inurian and Anyara. The bonds around their ankles were cut and they were hauled on to horseback.
'Wait,' cried Aeglyss after Kanin's disappearing form. 'Give me Inurian, at least. You have no need of him.' No one paid him any heed.
Anyara's last glimpse of the na'kyrim, as she was carried towards the rain-shrouded city in the distance, was of a lone, shrunken figure gazing after them. She wondered, now that he appeared so forlorn and impotent, how he had ever intimidated her. Behind the na'kyrim the White Owls were coming out from beneath the shelter of the trees, closing upon him.
A single black crow rose from amongst its fellows roosting in the copse and flapped lazily through the rain. With a few long sweeps of its wings it turned and followed towards Anduran.
The city was not as Anyara remembered it. Her Blood's proudest creation had been battered by a ferocious storm. Most of the farm buildings on the outskirts were intact, although they had an abandoned air and a feel of incipient decay. There were no people to be seen, no lights in the windows, no smoke rising from chimneys. It was a hollow landscape.
As they entered into Anduran itself the scent of wet, burned wood filled her nostrils. Gutted skeletons were all that remained of many houses. Rubble had collapsed across the roadway in places. The horses stepped over bodies not yet cleared away. A charred, black-crusted arm reached out toward Anyara from across a threshold. A single white sheet, stained by smoke, hung soddenly from an open window. A buzzard sat upon the remnants of roof timber, watching them go by with its head cocked on one side.
They wove their way through the streets, drawing ever closer to the square and to the castle beyond it. There were no more bodies. The dead had been gathered up from these streets. There were still dogs and crows, though, haunting the alleys. There were warriors too, picking their way through the ruins in small groups, gathering what little loot remained. Anyara caught sight of one group, clambering over the wreckage of a house like rats on a body, that differed from the others. They wore furs and hide breeches, and their matted hair was bound into braids with leather thongs. They stopped for a moment to watch the riders pass, then returned to their searching. When they called to each other it was in a harsh tongue that made Anyara think of dogs. They must be Tarbains, she thought: the wild tribesmen of the north who had been there long before the Black Road arrived. If Kanin had brought them south too, little in the Glas valley would escape despoliation.
The buildings that had once lined the southern side of the market square were gone, reduced to piles of blackened debris. One of the fires must have been started there. It had consumed even the bones of the merchants' houses, the shops, the warehouses. Beyond, the square itself was crowded. Ranks of horses were tied along one side, sullen guards watching them from beneath the shelter of overhanging roofs. A train of mules, weighed down with sacks of food and bundles of weapons, was crossing the open expanse. Some thirty caped spearmen escorted it. On the square's western side, a blacksmith's shop was a hive of activity, giving out the roar of fanned flames and the pounding of hammers.
The castle was visible over the rooftops to the north, half-shrouded by the curtains of rain. It was silent and still. Anyara had almost expected there to be a battle raging. Instead it was as if war itself had huddled down to wait for better weather.
Kanin nan Horin-Gyre had occupied the largest house left standing on the edge of the square, the home of a fur merchant who had left in such haste that a bale of fine marten fur still lay on the floor at the end of the dining table. Kanin was seated on it when Anyara and Inurian were brought before him. A handful of hard-faced warriors were lounging around the room, some perched upon the edges of the table, others leaning back in the expensive chairs.
There was a young woman there too, perhaps five years older than Anyara. She wore a light vest of delicately wrought chain metal. There was a golden chain about her neck, and thick, glittering rings upon her fingers. Her hair was long and blackly sleek, like strands of spun obsidian. When Anyara looked at her, she saw only a cold, dead arrogance and contempt.
'Welcome,' smiled Kanin. 'I have found a throne, as you see.' He ran his hands through the dark fur beneath him. 'Worth more than the one Croesan sits upon in his castle, I imagine. Had this been my house, I would not have left such booty behind.'
'It is your house, now,' the woman pointed out.
'Indeed. I suppose it must be,' Kanin glanced at Anyara. 'Forgive me. You have not been introduced. This is my sister, Wain. And Wain, this is Anyara, the daughter of the late lord of Kolglas.'
Wain nan Horin-Gyre inclined her head in mock respect. She was turning one of her rings, round and round on her finger. 'A pleasure,' she said.
Anyara made no response, striving for an air of disdain despite being soaked to the skin and covered in scratches and dirt.
'Do not mind her rudeness, sister,' said the Bloodheir, rising to his feet. 'She has had a trying journey. I don't suppose Inkallim and wood wights make for the kind of travelling companions she is used to.'
That sent a ripple of wry laughs running around the othe
rs in the room. Anyara felt hemmed in, beset by a pack of wolves too well-fed to kill her but too enamoured of her suffering to let her go. Fear and anger vied for supremacy within her. Anger won.
'At least I had no choice in keeping their company,' she snapped. 'You have chosen ravens and woodwights as allies, and Tarbains too. Would none of the other Bloods come with you? Horin-Gyre has even fewer friends than I knew.'
Kanin smiled at her. She saw his teeth. 'We have those we need, it seems, to break you. And I've seen no men of Haig on the walls of Croesan's castle; no Kilkry horsemen in your valley. Where are your friends, my lady?'
'Coming,' said Anyara.
'As are ours,' said Wain with the kind of calm certainty Anyara wished she felt herself. 'Gyre will be here before Haig. Do you think us fools, playing at children's games? We have watched you for a long time, child, while the Heart Fever ate up your people, while your warriors were called away by Gryvan oc Haig. We have watched and waited for the right time. This is that time.'
'I do think you fools,' Anyara shouted. 'You'll die here. Whether you fear it or not, death...'
'Not before you,' Wain interrupted her. 'Or your father. Did he fear death?'
'Enough pleasantries,' Kanin said. Anyara's outburst had not unsettled him in the least, although she thought there was an acid edge to Wain's glare. 'I have little stomach for them at the best of times. Our guests had better be shown to their sleeping quarters. The town gaol. I hope you will find it to your liking.'
Guards moved to march the two prisoners out.
'A word to you before you go, halfbreed,' said Kanin, raising an admonitory finger to Inurian, acknowledging his presence for the first time. 'I imagine that you possess some of the little tricks of your kind, though I think Aeglyss once told me that yours is a paltry kind of talent. Still, we will keep guards out of your way, I think, and trust to bars and stone to hold you. Be assured that your young companion will be watched, though. She will die the instant there is any suggestion of trickery. If that happens your own death will be unpleasant. You may become a useful gift to someone one day, but do not make the mistake of thinking I value your life any more than that of a dog.'
Godless World 1 - Winterbirth Page 15