‘Aye,’ the first man said.
‘No sign of Haf an’ his lads?’
‘Haf?’
He led a few of our boys into those woods over there,’ Camlin said, pointing into the distance. ‘Someone saw a boat land out that way, thought it might be spies of Owain.’
‘I hadn’t heard,’ the warrior said, stepping forward, peering at the woods. They were just a deeper shadow in the gloom of dusk.
‘I’ll go check on my horse,’ Camlin said, stepping out of the doorway’s light.
‘There are a lot of horses out there,’ the warrior said.
‘’S all right,’ Camlin said. ‘I can see her from here — over there — big piebald mare.’ He pointed to a cluster of horses.
‘Did you see that?’ the guard said, taking a few steps into the field.
‘Where?’ Camlin said.
‘Near your horse — I thought I saw. .’ He took another step into the field, further from the light, hand going to his sword hilt.
There was a whistling sound, a wet thud and the guard staggered. In a second Camlin was behind him, one hand across his mouth, the other stabbing into his back, the blade slipping through ribs, puncturing a lung. The man sighed and sank to the ground, Camlin lowering him.
Quickly he turned and strode back to the smokehouse, sheathing his knife. Vonn crept out of the gloom, and he heard Dath’s feet behind him.
Camlin held a finger up to Vonn, pointed at the smokehouse and then stepped through the open door.
The man inside was bent over stirring some kind of stew. Camlin’s knife took him in the gut as he turned. He struggled, gripping Camlin’s wrist, then the strength went out of him and he fell across the pot, spilling it. Flames scattered and Camlin stamped them out.
He looked up to see Vonn staring at him.
‘That wasn’t very honourable,’ Vonn said.
‘No,’ said Camlin amicably, ‘it wasn’t. He’s dead, though, an’ I’m alive. An’ you’re still breathing too, for that matter.’ He pushed past Vonn and stood in the light of the doorway, raised an arm and waved. Dath was standing beside the shadow of the dead warrior in the grass, pulling his arrow from the man’s chest. ‘You did good,’ Camlin called to him. ‘Now, both of you, help me get some saddles and tack together before Marrock arrives.’
It had taken over half the night for Camlin and Marrock to catch up with Halion and his companions.
Still, they were all alive, and everyone was mounted on a strong horse. Things could be a lot worse.
Marrock and Halion moved apart, Halion riding to the front of their small column.
‘Domhain is north-west of here,’ he said, turning in his saddle, ‘so that is the direction we will ride, and fast, to put some distance between us and our trackers. I have travelled through Cambren before, but not this far south. I know there is a good pass through the mountains to Domhain, but it is much further north, so that is where we are headed.’
Good. Now let’s just get on with it, instead of talking about it, Camlin thought, looking back over his shoulder for the signs of pursuit — a cloud of dust from horses’ hooves, the startled flight of birds, anything, but so far the land looked quiet and clean behind them.
They stopped beside a stream at highsun and Camlin dismounted, drinking deeply and splashing some water on his neck. He heard a cracking noise, looked up and jumped; only a pace away Brina’s crow was sitting on a dark granite rock, gleefully smashing a large snail to pieces. It speared the soft body within and slurped it down.
‘I hate that crow,’ a voice whispered beside him. Dath. Camlin nodded, not really wanting to say it out loud, in case the crow heard him.
‘Mount up,’ Marrock called out.
As Camlin climbed into his saddle he noticed the wolven standing perfectly still, looking behind them. Its hackles were up.
He paused, staring hard into the distance, along the path they had travelled. ‘Chief,’ he called.
Marrock rode over to him.
‘What is it?’
Camlin pointed. In the distance, almost beyond eyesight, something was moving, like a line of ants.
‘Best pick up the pace,’ Camlin said. ‘We’ve got company.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
VERADIS
Veradis reined in his horse as Dun Carreg came into view.
Calidus pulled up alongside him, the warband slowing to a halt behind.
‘Nathair is there?’ Veradis asked, staring at the fortress in the distance.
‘Yes, he is there, as is Lykos,’ Calidus said.
They spurred their mounts on, the warband rippling into motion behind.
The Jehar had split into two groups, riding on their flanks like two black wings stretching across the green countryside. Further to the south, dense forest rolled away into the distance, carpeting the land as far as Veradis could see and reminding him of Forn. Since finding Maquin, Veradis had been troubled. He’d kept his word, led Alcyon, Jael and the rest of the hunting party away from Maquin and his companions, given them a chance at life, though they still had to survive Forn. He felt he owed it to Maquin, maybe as a blood-price for Kastell. Alcyon had looked at him strangely that day, and Veradis wondered if the giant knew, somehow, what he’d done. But that was not what troubled him. It was the last words Maquin had spoken to him. Be careful of what side you choose. He had been careful, had made the right choices. Haven’t I? Nathair was his friend, but more than that, he was the Bright Star that prophecy spoke of, and Calidus was one of the Ben-Elim, a warrior-angel, come to help them, to guide them through the dark times ahead: the war against Asroth and his Black Sun. Yet if he had chosen right, why did he feel wrong, somehow, somewhere deep down, and why, when he closed his eyes at night, did he see Kastell’s face, his dead eyes accusing him.
We are at war, a voice whispered in his mind. Hard choices must be made, hard deeds undertaken. Yes, that was true. He was just glad that Calidus was with them, to guide them, and help them make the difficult choices. For the greater good, the voice in his head said.
‘Yes. For the greater good,’ he echoed.
‘What was that?’ someone said nearby. It was Bos, cantering close beside him.
‘Nothing,’ Veradis said, shaking his head.
‘It’s the first sign of madness, you know. Talking to yourself.’
‘Is that so? Then I must have lost my mind a long time ago.’
‘I could have told you that,’ Bos said with a smile.
Dun Carreg was much closer now, a small village spread at the foot of the hill it sat upon.
‘Blow that horn of yours, Bos. Let them know we’re coming.’
Veradis was ushered by Jehar warriors into a room, Nathair’s chambers. A table stood at one end with seven chairs around it. The Vin Thalun, Lykos, already occupied one. Veradis had seen a fleet anchored in the bay below Dun Carreg, sleek-hulled Vin Thalun war-galleys and fat-bellied transporters. Lykos had a cup in his hand, a smile on his face at the sight of Veradis.
‘Have a drink,’ the pirate said, pouring something and handing it to Veradis.
Veradis smiled as he took it. It was good even to see this pirate — at least Lykos was someone that he associated with home. He took a sip of the drink and winced. ‘What is this?’
‘Mead. It gets better the more you drink of it,’ Lykos said, grinning.
‘I would hope so.’ Veradis grimaced. ‘Have you seen Rauca?’ he asked, looking at the empty chairs. It had been such a whirlwind since he had ridden up to Dun Carreg that he had not had a chance to seek out his friend. Nathair had met him before the gates of the fortress, pulling Veradis from his knees into an embrace.
‘I have missed you, my friend,’ Nathair had said.