by John Gwynne
Rhin’s eyes darted to Nathair.
‘Yes,’ Nathair said with a cold smile. ‘I have been enlightened.’
‘That is . . . good,’ Rhin whispered.
‘It is,’ Calidus agreed. ‘What is not so good is letting Meical and his Bright Star slip through your fingers, and allowing my fleet to be destroyed. Ships that were to take us, take the cauldron, to Tenebral.’
After a long silence Rhin finally spoke.
‘I am sorry.’ Rhin said. Uthas saw her shoulder twitch again beneath Calidus’ hand.
‘I am sure that you are,’ Calidus said, his voice calm, matter-of-fact. ‘But good intentions alone will not win us this war.’ He muttered, his hand upon Rhin’s shoulder moved, fingers contracting, a black mist flowing from his palm, slipping about Rhin’s throat like a dawn mist, heavy and slow. Rhin gasped, her mouth opening wide.
‘Do not try to speak,’ Calidus said, calm as before, ‘you’ll only find that you cannot. Only listen.’ He bent close, lips almost brushing her ear. ‘Asroth rewards, but he also punishes. Faithfulness is good. Faithfulness and success is better. Failure, on the other hand . . .’
He took his hand away from Rhin’s shoulder, the black mist coiled within his grip, looped about her neck. He clenched his fist, the mist contracting. Rhin’s hands grasped at her throat, passed through the mist, clawing her own flesh. Her eyes bulged, flesh turning red, then purple. She threw herself about in the chair but Calidus wrenched her back, put a hand in her hair and twisted, holding her still.
‘Never. Ever. Fail.’
There was a knock at the door and Calidus stepped away from Rhin, opened his palm and with a hiss the black mist evaporated. Rhin collapsed to the table in a fit of coughing.
Calidus walked back to his seat, adjusted his cloak, then sat.
‘Compose yourself,’ he said to Rhin, who pulled herself upright in her chair, dragging in deep breaths. Slowly the rise and fall of her chest calmed. ‘Enter,’ Calidus called out.
The door opened and Veradis stepped in. He looked solemn, almost guilty.
He feels the shame of defeat, also, Uthas realized.
Nathair stood as Veradis entered the room. At the sight of Nathair a grin broke across Veradis’ face and Nathair smiled in return, the expression looking out of place on his face.
That is a deep and genuine friendship. I have not seen Nathair smile since before Murias.
Veradis took a few long strides and dropped to one knee before Nathair.
‘My King,’ Veradis said.
Nathair stood there, looking down at his friend in silence, his smile slowly fading. A shadow crossed his face. He glanced at Calidus, adjusting his expression to cold inscrutability, and then he put a hand on Veradis’ arm.
And now we shall see how deep your oath to Asroth is rooted.
‘None of that, old friend,’ Nathair said, pulling Veradis upright. The two men embraced; Veradis took a step back, looking into Nathair’s face. He frowned.
From the corner of his eye Uthas saw Calidus’ hand slip to the hilt of a knife at his belt.
CHAPTER FORTY
VERADIS
‘What’s wrong?’ Veradis asked.
At first Veradis had been focused only on Nathair, consumed with the sense of relief that always flooded him whenever he was reunited safely with his King. But as that started to melt away he became aware of something else. There was a tension in the room, the air heavy with it. Rhin was sitting with eyes downcast, Calidus straight-backed, lips a tight line beneath his close-cropped silver beard. Sumur and Uthas the giant were shadows outlined by sunshine through an open window. And Nathair. He looked gaunt, a strain in his features that spoke of more than weariness at the end of a long road.
‘Wrong? Nothing,’ Nathair said. ‘We have the cauldron, a dream of many years fulfilled.’ He smiled, but to Veradis’ mind it looked weak, somehow. Empty.
‘The cauldron, after so much – the dreams, the planning, the hardship,’ Veradis smiled in return. ‘I have known for a while – Rhin has received messages. It is wonderful news.’
‘Aye. It is,’ Nathair said.
And yet, I expected something else. What? He should be overjoyed. This does not seem like the focused, determined man whom I left on the borders of Domhain. ‘You look weary, Nathair, but there is more, I think.’
Uthas shifted behind Nathair.
‘We have endured hard battles, a long road,’ Nathair said. ‘And I find that I have completed a quest only to realize that it is the beginning of another one.’ He looked about the room, eyes lingering on Calidus before they returned to Veradis. ‘I am weary, but you are right, there is more.’ He paused again, just stared at Veradis for long, silent moments. ‘I am disappointed in you, Veradis. You had a chance to end this. The Black Sun with only a few hundred swords about him. And you let him escape. This is the first time that you have failed me. And now it feels like the battle against the Black Sun is only just beginning, a long road with the end far from sight.’
Veradis felt each word like a blow, a knife punching into his belly and twisting with each new syllable.
Veradis dropped his eyes, shame coursing through him. ‘I know. It could have been over.’ He shook his head, eyes filled with shame. ‘I let them get away.’
‘You did.’
‘We expected more from you,’ Calidus said.
‘But it is done now, Veradis, no changing it,’ Nathair said. ‘An opportunity missed, aye. We will fight on.’
‘Replace me,’ Veradis said.
‘No. That is the coward’s way out.’ Nathair’s voice was harsh, harder than Veradis had ever heard, and more painful than lashes across his back. He gripped Veradis by the shoulder. ‘You’ve made a mistake. Do not make another.’
‘Never. Death first,’ Veradis assured him.
Nathair nodded curtly and returned to his seat. Veradis sank into a chair besides Rhin, for the first time seeing Alcyon’s bulk standing in the shadows. He smiled ruefully at the giant.
‘Well met, little man,’ Alcyon said, a smile twitching his moustache.
‘Not so well, I’m afraid,’ Veradis said.
‘You live, that is well enough, by my reckoning,’ Alcyon grunted.
‘Very touching, but enough of that. Time for greetings later,’ Calidus snapped. He turned his hawk-like gaze upon Veradis and Rhin. ‘I need to know – what happened?’ There was something in Calidus’ voice, an edge that whispered of rage well concealed, enough leaking through to fill Veradis with a sense of dread.
This is worse than my childhood weapons training, when Krelis would beat me black and blue, and then Alben would make me tell him what I did wrong.
‘We were concerned that the enemy would flee, once they saw how outnumbered they were,’ Veradis said, reciting the strategy emotionlessly. ‘So we marched at night and crept up on their camp in the dark. I thought, if we were close enough come sunrise that we would be able to bring them to battle, give them no time to flee.’
‘And you agreed with this?’ Calidus asked Rhin. She lifted her chin and met Calidus’ gaze.
‘It was my idea,’ Rhin said.
‘It seemed like a good plan, at the time,’ Veradis added weakly.
‘They usually do,’ Calidus said flatly, leaning back and folding his arms. ‘So what happened?’
Veradis explained about the march and the deception that they had fallen for.
‘So they crept around you, stole my ships and burned the rest.’ Calidus leaned forwards in his chair.
‘Not all of them,’ Rhin said.
‘Ah, that’s something.’
‘How many left?’
Fifteen.’
‘A transporter? We need a transporter to carry the cauldron.’
Veradis shook his head. ‘No, only the galleys.’
Calidus frowned.
‘We could take the fifteen ships and sail after them,’ Veradis offered.
Calidus tugged at his short beard. ‘T
hey number three to four hundred, mostly Jehar, also Benothi giants, Corban and his followers – who almost single-handedly decimated the garrison at Dun Vaner . . .’ Calidus shot a withering glance at Rhin. ‘The maximum you could sail with would be a thousand men – your warband. You would lose.’
‘My shield wall has faced giants before, draigs, wyrms,’ Veradis said.
‘Aye, but not a warband commanded by one of the Kadoshim and his Black Sun. Or the Jehar.’
‘Or Balur One-Eye,’ Uthas muttered. ‘He is a formidable foe.’
I have heard his name in the tales my nan used to tell me.
‘The answer is no,’ Calidus continued, frowning at Uthas’ interruption. ‘You will not pursue them. When it was our combined forces against them then the answer was beyond doubt. I will not take risks, you and the eagle-guard are too valuable. And I cannot spare men who are guarding the cauldron to swell your numbers. Besides, I know their destination – they are going to Drassil. We shall follow them there in our own time, when all is ready and the cauldron is safe.’
Veradis bowed his head, defiant but resigned. ‘Where is the cauldron?’ he asked. ‘The story of its taking is something I’d dearly love to hear.’
‘It was a hard battle,’ Nathair said. He looked out of the window, eyes distant. ‘A tale I’ll tell you another time, over a jug of wine. And now a great weapon is in our hands.’ He looked back to Veradis. ‘Our plan was to transport it by ship to Tenebral, and for all of us to sail with it.’
Veradis hung his head.
‘All is not lost,’ Calidus said. ‘Correct me if I am wrong, Nathair, but your plan was to summon our allies to Tenebral: the kings of Isiltir, Carnutan and Helveth, for a council of war?’
‘It was.’
‘Well then, if we march the cauldron back we could travel through Isiltir, send messengers ahead and summon Jael, Gundul and Lothar to meet us at some practical location; say, Mikil.’
‘Good,’ Nathair said, nodding slowly. ‘We would need to move fast, to reach Mikil before winter comes.’
‘Aye. It could be done.’
‘A good plan,’ Veradis said.
‘You will not be coming, I’m afraid,’ Calidus said.
‘What?’
‘I have heard news from Lykos in Tenebral. There is trouble brewing – a rebellion. He claims he can deal with it, but he is Vin Thalun, born to fight on the seas. Land war is not his speciality. I think he needs some help. Take the galleys and your warband back to Tenebral. You can put down this rebellion and then meet us in Mikil.’
‘What?’ No. How can I be parted from Nathair, again. What kind of first-sword spends his life fighting hundreds of leagues apart from his king?
‘And you want me to go?’
‘Yes,’ Nathair said. ‘There is no one else whom I would trust with such a task.’
‘But I am your first-sword, I should be at your side,’ Veradis said pleadingly to Nathair.
‘And you are also my battlechief. Do this for me, redeem yourself for yesterday’s failure.’
Veradis sighed, feeling his heart sink. ‘Who leads this rebellion in Tenebral?’ he asked.
Nathair looked at him sorrowfully. ‘Your father.’
Veradis walked through the corridors of Uthandun in search of Nathair.
Two nights had passed since Nathair had arrived, and he had hardly seen his friend and King, and then only amidst a press of voices all clamouring for Nathair’s attention. Even then Calidus would always appear and send him off on some other task.
And now it was the day of leaving and so Veradis had left his chambers while it was still dark, determined to find Nathair, only to find that his King’s chambers were unguarded and empty. Muttering curses Veradis marched through corridors, flickering torchlight fading as the corridors became pale with dawn.
Eventually he found Nathair on the meadows beyond Uthandun’s walls. He was standing in a shallow dell, an area roped off into a paddock sheltered by a line of trees that edged a stream. The King of Tenebral was standing with his draig, throwing the great beast quartered sections of an auroch. Alcyon was standing a few strides away, a dark silhouette in the pale dawn.
‘I have been searching for you,’ Veradis said as he approached. Nathair looked up but said nothing, just went back to pulling chunks of meat and bone from a sack and throwing them to his draig.
‘I did not think I was that hard to find,’ Alcyon said.
‘Surprising, I know,’ Veradis grinned at Alcyon.
Another thing that is even more surprising is how I have come to value a giant as a friend. The first time they’d met, Alcyon had broken Veradis’ nose, but then Veradis had just hurled a spear at the giant. Since then, though, they had travelled and fought together, saved each other’s lives many times, and slowly the barriers had melted and a friendship had formed. They stood together a moment in companionable silence, Nathair with his back to them.
‘I have heard talk of the battle of Domhain Pass, and your name is always mentioned,’ Alcyon said.
‘Aye. It came as a pleasant surprise that I can manage to survive a battle even if you are not there to save me.’ Veradis looked up at Alcyon with a smile, saw the hilt of a longsword arching over the giant’s shoulder.
‘Where is your black axe?’
Alcyon scowled. ‘It was taken from me, in battle.’
That axe was one of the Seven Treasures.
‘So two of us out of favour, then.’
Alcyon looked down at Veradis with a frown. ‘More than you could ever imagine,’ he said.
‘Who took it?’
‘An enemy.’ Alcyon rippled, a tree shrugging off snow. ‘I will meet him again.’
Veradis did not doubt it. He glanced sidelong at the giant, at his tattooed thorns swirling around the slabs of his forearms to disappear beneath chainmail sleeves, his long drooping moustache bound with leather cords, dark eyes in a pale, angular face. Different, and yet not so different, after all.
‘Who are you?’ Veradis asked him.
‘Huh?’ grunted the giant.
‘You are of the Kurgan clan, are you not?’
‘I am,’ Alcyon agreed slowly.
‘Where are they from?’
‘We lived once in your Tenebral, our realm stretching further north and east, all the way to what you call Arcona, the Sea of Grass.’
‘And within your clan, who are you?’
‘What do you mean?’ Alcyon asked suspiciously.
‘You see how our people are divided – king, shieldman, warrior, blacksmith, horsemaster, shipbuilder, and so on. What were you?’
Alcyon’s brows jutted, a frown creasing them. ‘I am nothing,’ he growled.
Veradis shrugged. ‘It’s your business. But for my part, I don’t agree that you are nothing, now. If nothing else you are my friend.’
Alcyon turned his gaze upon Veradis for long moments. Then he nodded. ‘As you are mine,’ he said.
Nathair turned and walked over to them.
‘I am sailing for Tenebral today,’ Veradis said, remembering why he came here. ‘I wished to speak with you, before I left. As we once did.’
Nathair nodded. He looked pale, much as he had after taking his wound when Aquilus had been murdered. ‘I have wished to speak with you, share that jug of wine. But . . .’ he spread his hands.
‘I know. The days are too short,’ Veradis finished for him. There was a change in Nathair. Veradis recognized it. The same aura surrounded Alcyon, always had.
Melancholy.
‘Aye, they are,’ Nathair agreed.
‘We have now, though, at least.’ Mist drifted around their feet, evaporating with the rising sun. Behind them Uthandun was a hazy shadow, the sounds of its waking distant and muted. All seemed still and silent. Veradis pulled a wine skin from his shoulder and pulled out the stopper with his teeth. ‘Good wine from Ripa,’ he said, grinning.
Nathair smiled at that, took the skin and drank deep. For a moment Veradis thou
ght he’d drain the whole skin. He passed it back, a drop of dark red wine running into his short beard.
Veradis offered some to Alcyon.
‘So, tell me of Murias,’ Veradis said to Nathair.
Nathair grimaced, a twist of his mouth. ‘The Benothi were fierce, fought harder than I imagined possible. Wyrms guarded the cauldron, many. Three, four score of them. Near a thousand of the Jehar fell.’ He recited the facts with little to no emotion.
He speaks as if he is reading it from the histories, not as if he were there, in the thick of it.
The Jehar were the most accomplished and deadly warriors Veradis had ever witnessed. He could not imagine a foe strong enough to slay a thousand of them.
‘How many Benothi were there?’
‘A few hundred,’ Alcyon said. ‘But many sided with Uthas.’
‘Survivors?’ Veradis asked.
‘Uthas has fifty or so Benothi with him,’ Alcyon answered. ‘Of those who stood against us, they have joined with Meical and the Black Sun. Maybe thirty.’
‘And what of Cywen?’ That was a question he’d wished to ask since Nathair had arrived, but felt somehow foolish asking it when the others were around.
‘Cywen,’ Nathair raised his eyebrows and Alcyon looked at his feet.
‘She escaped,’ Alcyon rumbled. ‘Another failure that I am held accountable for.’
‘Corban took her. He appeared when the battle for the cauldron was at its most fierce,’ Nathair said. ‘I saw them flee the hall together.’
Good. Veradis did not know why, but it was important to him that Cywen lived. That she was safe. She had seemed to be an innocent swept up in dark times. Not that she is safe while in the company of the Black Sun.
‘I met Corban, the Black Sun,’ Veradis said. ‘He was at the Battle of Domhain Pass, led a night raid on Rhin’s warband. He wore a wolven pelt, he and a few others.’
‘He has a wolven,’ Nathair said. ‘Storm, he calls it. It was at Murias.’
‘Aye. Between them they scared the living hells out of Rhin’s men. Many fled during the night.’
Nathair shrugged. ‘I’m not surprised, if they thought wolven were fighting against them.’