‘I can’t stay here,’ Cywen said, ‘the smell is making me sick.’ She gave Evnis a withering look, then turned for the door. Conall held it shut.
‘Let her go,’ Nathair said, ‘though I may ask for you to return.’
‘Make sure he’s not here, then,’ she said, and left.
CHAPTER TWELVE
EVNIS
Evnis glared at the closed door, wishing Cywen dead. Who does she think she is, the little brat?
‘I like her,’ Nathair said absently. He looked distracted.
‘So do I,’ said Conall, ‘even if she did try to kill me.’
‘Really. .?’ Nathair raised an eyebrow, focusing on Conall.
‘Aye, on Stonegate, the night of the battle. She threw a knife at me, then, when that didn’t work, she pushed me off the wall. That’s how I got this.’ He touched his bruised cheek. ‘Course, I did pull her over with me. Thought if I was finished she should be as well.’
‘I like her even more, now.’
Evnis snorted and brushed himself down. ‘Was she useful, my lord?’
‘Yes, very.’ Nathair shared a look with Sumur, something passing between them. ‘Have her watched,’ he said to Evnis. ‘I would not have her disappearing in search of her kin. I have a feeling she will be useful. Some of the things she said, they stir memories.’ He drank from his cup, then winced. ‘What is this mead? It really is quite disgusting. What I’d give for a good jug of wine.’
‘Unfortunately we have more bees than grapes in Ardan,’ Evnis said.
‘So. What news of Rhin?’ Nathair asked.
‘I am told she is camped on the banks of the Rhenus, at the northern fringe of the Darkwood.’
‘And what will she do next?’
‘I would imagine she’ll strike south, push through the forest and into Ardan before Owain can muster a force large enough to hold her there. Once she is loose in Ardan there will be no stopping her. That is what I would advise, at least.’
‘I agree,’ Nathair said, sipping at his mead. He frowned absently into the cup. ‘I need to see her. Without Owain’s knowledge.’
‘That will be difficult,’ Evnis said.
‘Yes, I know. But nevertheless, it is what must happen.’
‘Of course,’ said Evnis. ‘I will do what I can, my lord.’
It was late but he could not sleep. Did not want to sleep. Dreams were the last thing he wanted, and he knew they would come. He swirled his cup of usque and sipped it slowly, savouring the liquor’s oily warmth as it slipped down his throat, heat spreading from his gut into his chest.
He was tired, exhausted, trying to keep track of the plots and threads that he had become involved in.
Nathair’s patronage kept him safe, for now. With luck, long enough for Rhin to arrive and separate Owain’s head from his shoulders. But then how would she react to this most recent turn of events, his obeisance to Nathair? Not too well, was his gut reaction. Rhin is famed for her jealousy. And this situation with Nathair was perplexing, and intriguing — there was so much more going on than he could see, situations he could sense, caught from veiled glances between Nathair and his guard, Sumur.
‘What is the link between Sumur and Gar?’ he breathed. Clearly they were of the same people — he had seen them duel, saw the similarities of style and weapons. But how? Sumur is from Tarbesh, more than a thousand leagues away. How is it that Gar is — was — here. And, more importantly, why was he here?
And now he is gone. Escaped with Edana, and Vonn. .
He was surprised by a wave of emotion, a constricting within his chest. He closed his eyes and felt a tear roll down his cheek. Almost immediately his anger stirred. You fool, tears will not help. Use your wits. They have kept you alive this long. His thoughts drifted to the tunnels beneath the fortress. That must have been how they escaped. They may be in them still. He would lead an expedition, but he would need enough warriors with him in case they were there. It would be dangerous.
He smiled to himself. He had warriors of his own, but more than that, he had the book. Found buried in the tunnels dug by the Benothi, the ancient giant clan, builders of Dun Carreg. A book of learning, a book of power. With it he had begun to learn the secrets of the earth power, magic, the ignorant called it. Even as he thought of it he felt drawn to the book. That had been happening more and more of late, as if the knowledge it held was some unseen drug, pulling him back with invisible cords.
Without even realizing, he stood and padded towards the secret door concealed within an oak-panelled wall. With a click it swung open, revealing a small space, room enough only for a small table and one chair. Only Fain and Vonn knew of its existence. He had shown it to them as a place to hide in the eventuality of Owain’s attack, something they had both scoffed at, but he had known Rhin’s plans would bear fruit one day.
He lifted the torch from the sconce, held it high, and gasped.
The book was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CAMLIN
Camlin swore quietly.
He was crouching behind a thick-trunked beech, peering through scrub and hawthorn at the line of riders, steadily growing larger. He counted seven.
‘What are we going to do?’ Dath whispered, one eye on the riders, the other on the bowstring he was fumbling.
‘Not sure yet,’ Camlin muttered. He glanced at Gar, but there was no help there — the warrior’s face was a blank wall. ‘Depends on why they’re riding into these woods.’ He stared at the approaching riders, all grim-faced and wrapped in leather and mail. ‘Doesn’t look like they’ve come dressed for flower picking.’ Looks more like they’ve come for blood.
Fight or flight? He hawked and spat, looking at the woods about them. They were hidden in the first growth of trees, a track of sorts passing by them. Only a little deeper and the track was overshadowed, pressed by looming beech and chestnut. If the riders took the track they would have to ride single file. He sighed, his decision made.
‘Corban, Gar — you two stay hidden here. Me an’ Dath, we’re going to move a little deeper into the trees, try and even the odds a little. Don’t do anything till the arrows stop coming. And don’t let any of them get back onto that meadow.’
‘Why are we doing this?’ Dath stammered. ‘They might just be passing through.’
‘Don’t think so,’ Camlin said. ‘The only place this track leads to is the beach. My guess is that our boat was seen, and these lads have been sent to see what’s what. No time to get back and warn the others, so best be getting on with what needs doing.’ He glanced at Gar again, and this time the warrior nodded.
Corban and Gar slipped into deeper cover, the wolven following, almost invisible in the gloom, the stripes in her coat blending with the shadows.
‘Dath — with me,’ Camlin snapped, not looking to see if the lad followed him. He could tell the boy’s courage was wavering, and from experience he knew that soft words would not help. They hurried deeper, stopping where banks rose either side of the track. ‘Here’s a good spot,’ Camlin said. He pulled a handful of arrows from his quiver, stuck them in a line into the black loam earth and motioned for Dath to do the same. The boy’s hands were shaking.
Camlin gripped Dath’s wrist. ‘Take a deep breath, lad. And do the same before each shot. Pick targets in the centre of their column. Aim for chests, or their horses. Bring them down.’
Dath jerked a nod, his eyes wide.
Camlin felt a wave of pity; he remembered watching his brother as he was cut down by raiders, remembered the incapacitating fear and the shame that followed. ‘They’re going to feel a whole lot worse than you once the arrows start flying, stuck in the open, not knowing where we are. And that’s before they come face to face with your friend’s wolven.’