‘He has men,’ Veradis said, gesturing up the column, where Jael marched with his shieldmen about him.
‘Some — a few score here, some others at Mikil, but not enough to be convincing. We need Isiltir; Nathair needs Isiltir. It would be better if we could show our support. .’
‘No,’ Veradis said. ‘I am Nathair’s first-sword, and I am going straight to him.’
Calidus raised an eyebrow and seemed to consider pressing the point, then shrugged. ‘As you say. And you are probably not best suited to the task. Lykos and his Vin Thalun, however — they would be perfect.’
‘That would take too long — by the time you sent word back to Tenebral, and then the time it took Lykos to reach Isiltir.’
‘Yes, unless Lykos had already left Tenebral and was sailing to meet us at Ardan,’ Calidus said, a smile twitching his beard.
‘But how?’
Calidus winked at Veradis. ‘I may look like a withered old man, but sometimes appearances can be deceiving. And where there is a will. .’
There was a commotion up ahead, Alcyon calling a halt. The column rippled to a stop.
‘With me,’ Calidus said as he marched forward.
One of their scouts had returned, was talking to Alcyon, gesturing into the trees.
‘What is it?’ Calidus demanded.
‘Tracks in the forest, signs of a camp,’ the scout said.
‘How many?’ Calidus frowned.
‘Two, maybe three. The fire was burned out, but still warm.’
‘It is the Gadrai,’ Jael said. He had sidled up behind Calidus and Veradis.
‘Perhaps,’ Calidus murmured.
‘Take me to this camp,’ Veradis said to the scout.
Away from the path, the forest closed about them like a malignant wound, dark and treacherous. The scout led them through thick foliage and hanging vine. Dense webs draped the branches, in one of them hung the husk of something, a bat perhaps.
The ground turned spongier and soon they splashed across a shallow stream, the scout stopping on the far bank. He pointed to a pile of ash inside a ring of loose stones. Veradis bent and sifted the ash, rubbing his fingers together. There was a touch of warmth left, faint as the daylight in this forest.
Alcyon scanned the ground, Jael and a dozen of his shieldmen fanning out. The giant bent and scooped something up, a tattered piece of cloth. He sniffed it. ‘Smells of blood. One of them is injured,’ he said.
‘Which way?’ Jael said. ‘If one is injured we can catch them.’
The scout pointed into the gloom and Jael marched into the forest. ‘Stay close to me; they are the Gadrai — giant-killers, and they know this forest better than any.’
Veradis thought there was an edge of panic in Jael’s voice. He shared a look with Alcyon. Shall we follow?
‘Calidus will be unhappy if we return without him,’ the giant said.
Veradis shrugged and followed Jael, Alcyon close behind him.
They laboured through the forest; the going was slow as they searched for signs of their quarry’s passing. Soon they spread out into a line that grew more ragged as time passed. All except Alcyon were murky shadows amongst the trees. The axe strapped across his back drew Veradis’ eye, dark blades fanning out above the giant’s shoulders like wings.
‘Is that really one of the Seven Treasures?’ Veradis asked.
‘Yes,’ Alcyon said.
‘How old is it?’
Alcyon shrugged. ‘Two, three thousand years. And it is still sharp.’
‘I know, I saw you fight with it at Haldis.’
A frown crossed Alcyon’s face. Was he thinking of the giant children, of their guardian whom Calidus had slain.
‘I did not know. .’ Veradis started, trailing off. ‘About giant’s children.’
Alcyon looked at him. ‘We have children. Just not as many as you men. That is why they are precious to us.’ Something swept his face, a fleeting raw emotion, then it was gone. ‘At Haldis, so many of them killed.’ He shook his head.
‘Yes,’ Veradis agreed. ‘These are difficult times.’
‘We are at war,’ Alcyon said. ‘A war begun thousands of years ag°.’
Veradis looked about — the others were a distance away, only shadows amongst the trees — and lowered his voice. ‘I am thankful that one of the Ben-Elim stands with us. It makes the difficult things easier, somehow.’
A silence grew between them, man and giant focusing on their path through the forest. Veradis could not shake from his mind the look that he had seen sweep Alcyon’s face as they had talked of giant children. A look of naked misery.
Time passed, and Veradis was thinking of calling a halt and turning back when he saw something: a snapped stalk amongst foliage that draped a massive trunk. It could have been caused by Alcyon as he passed. Veradis stopped; Alcyon was fading into the gloom ahead. He looked intently at the broken stalk, then his gaze swept the surrounding area. There was a mark on the bark of the trunk — a scuff? Then something dripped onto his shoulder, something dark. He touched it, raised a finger to his tongue. His head snapped up as he reached for his sword. It was blood.
From branches above a dirt-stained face was peering down at him. He drew his sword, sucked in a breath to call Alcyon, then in front of him a figure stepped out from behind the tree, at the same time foliage rustling behind him. His call for help died in his throat as he gazed at the man standing before him.
Maquin.
The grey-haired warrior held a hand up, signalling to the unseen man behind him, and Veradis knew his life hung in the balance, as did theirs. One call from him and Alcyon, Jael and a dozen warriors would be on them. Carefully, slowly, he lowered his sword, holding Maquin’s gaze.
‘It is good to see you,’ he said.
Maquin grimaced, eyes flickering to the figure behind Veradis. He shook his head. Veradis resisted the urge to turn, kept his eyes fixed on Maquin. ‘Kastell?’ he asked.
Grief twisted Maquin’s face. ‘Jael killed him.’
Veradis hung his head. ‘Was it you that murdered Braster?’
‘No. That was Lothar,’ a voice grated behind him. Maquin nodded confirmation.
Lothar? But, he has been in close council with Calidus.
A voice called from the gloom. ‘Veradis, where are you?’ Alcyon. There was a sound of approaching feet.
He made his decision in an instant. ‘You are being hunted,’ Veradis hissed. ‘Get back into the trees. I will lead them away from you.’
‘Do we trust him?’ the voice behind Veradis said. Maquin looked at Veradis, then nodded.
‘I am sorry,’ Veradis whispered, ‘about Kastell.’
Maquin stepped back into the foliage, pausing before the gloom took him. ‘Before the battle you warned us about what side we were choosing.’
‘Yes,’ Veradis said. ‘I did.’
‘I would give you the same advice,’ Maquin said, then disappeared into the forest.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EVNIS
Evnis stood frozen in the doorway to his secret room. The book was gone. He searched frantically. The casket he had originally found it in was there, the necklace still within it, pulsing with its sickly light, but the book was nowhere to be seen. He stared at the necklace, his gaze sucked into the darkness of the single black stone, the size of his fist, wrapped in twists of silver. Ever since he had laid eyes upon it a suspicion had nagged him. Could it be Nemain’s necklace, one of the Seven Treasures? An ancient relic from when the world was young, if half the tales were true.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, to think. The last time he had used it he had not put the book back in the casket; he had left it sitting on top. He was sure of this, could picture in his mind reading from it, speaking aloud the words of power, then placing the book on to the casket’s lid. That had been days ago — the day Dun Carreg had fallen.