Emotions swept Rafe’s face — too many, too complex to read. ‘I wasn’t ready,’ he said, looking away.
Cheering drifted over from the weapons court and they both turned to look.
Conall was stepping onto the court, a practice sword in his hand. From the far side a figure appeared, flanked by a bald, thick-necked warrior. Cywen recognized the young warrior; he was one of those who had woken her in the night. He still wore the silver and black of Tenebral.
‘Who is that?’ she asked.
‘He’s Nathair’s first-sword, rode in with a warband yesterday,’ Rafe said. ‘Name’s Veradis, I think. And it looks as if he’s about to get a hiding from Conall.’
Quickly the court cleared for the two warriors, Cywen and Rafe hurrying over to watch. Conall was smiling, waiting for Veradis as he chose a practice sword from a wicker basket. He did not rush, testing the weight of a few until he found one that he was happy with. He returned Conall’s smile as he walked to him, then set his feet.
In a burst of speed Conall was on him, rushing forward, striking high and low in a blur of motion.
‘That’s your brother’s trick,’ Rafe whispered in Cywen’s ear, ‘catching people off-guard.’
Cywen heard rather than saw the exchange, the staccato clack of wood striking wood. When her eyes caught up, Veradis had retreated a few steps, but Conall had not broken his guard. Conall attacked again, feinting high then spinning around Veradis and chopping at the man’s ribs. Veradis spun on his heel, sweeping Conall’s attack away and striking at Conall’s head and chest with two short, solid blows. Conall blocked one and stepped away from the second. They continued like this, neither gaining the upper hand, Conall like a storm-whipped sea, swirling fluidly around Veradis’ wall of stone, solid, impenetrable. Then, from nowhere, Conall’s blade-tip was at Veradis’ throat, Conall grinning wolfishly. Cywen scowled, wishing for some reason that Conall had lost. He needs some of his swagger chopped away.
Veradis returned the smile, nodding down. Conall looked and saw Veradis’ weapon pressing against Conall’s groin.
Cywen smiled; that was one of the kill points that Corban had taught her.
Conall scowled then laughed, one emotion chasing the other as quick as a blink. Veradis stepped away and dipped his head to Conall.
‘Well, that was something to see,’ Rafe breathed. ‘I’ve never seen anyone except Conall’s brother touch wood to him while sparring.’
‘What’s going on today?’ Cywen asked him. ‘It feels different, somehow. Tense.’
‘Have you not heard?’ Rafe said. ‘Queen Rhin has broken out of the Darkwood into Ardan. She is marching on Owain. She is marching here.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CORBAN
Dawn’s light was seeping through the trees. Corban’s eyes were fixed on Vonn’s back in front of him as they sped through the woods. He was sweating, tunic clinging to his back. It felt as if they had been running half the night, Camlin and Halion leading them in a twisting route back to their camp. The two warriors did not think their hunters would attempt to try and track them until the sun had risen, almost certainly not after they had found the torn body of Storm’s victim, but you could not be too careful, as Camlin had said. As exhaustion threatened to claim Corban, his world shrinking to Vonn’s back, to each step, each single drag of air into his lungs, one thought persisted in revolving around his mind. What had Vonn dropped in the woods, and risked his life to find?
Gwenith greeted him with anxious eyes as they staggered into their camp; she didn’t look as if she’d slept any more than Corban had. Everyone was awake, horses saddled, the fire kicked out. His mam handed him and Gar a skin of water. Corban drank thirstily, and soon he was sitting in a saddle, his horse picking its way along a narrow track through thinning woods.
They stopped at highsun beneath the last shade of the woods they had been passing through, an open meadow rolling away before them. Corban chewed on some cold meat as he told Dath and Farrell of what had happened in the night, of what Storm had done. His thoughts returned to Vonn and he stood and strode to the young warrior sitting close to Halion and Edana.
‘What did you drop?’ Corban asked him.
Vonn looked up at him, appearing confused.
‘Last night in the woods, you dropped something. When you were being chased. What was it?’
Vonn’s expression changed and momentarily his hand twitched up to his cloak. He didn’t respond.
‘It must be important to you, or you’d have left it. That warrior was right behind you.’
Vonn glanced about, saw Halion and Edana looking at him, others as well.
‘It’s a book,’ he said quietly.
‘Why is it so important?’
Vonn said nothing, but looked cornered, somehow, a child with his hand caught in the honey jar.
‘What’re you hiding?’ Dath said loudly.
‘Nothing. It’s no one’s business but mine,’ Vonn snapped, sitting straighter now, his hand resting defensively on something inside his cloak.
‘What is it, Vonn?’ Halion asked now.
Vonn looked at him, then about at the other companions. All attention was on him. He sighed. ‘It is my father’s book. I took it the night Dun Carreg fell. I stole it to spite him — we’d argued about Bethan.’ His eyes darted to Dath. ‘I was angry with him. It was childish, but I knew he treasured it, so I just took it.’
‘What is this book?’ Brina said.
‘He kept it in a secret room, along with other things he treasured.’
‘I didn’t ask you where, I asked you what,’ Brina snapped.
‘WHAT,’ Craf squawked from the branches above. Dath jumped.
‘I’m not sure,’ Vonn said, ‘I think it’s old, ancient. I think my da found it in the tunnels beneath Dun Carreg.’
‘Show me,’ Heb said, stepping forwards.
Vonn clutched a hand to his chest, making no move to hand over the book.
‘Go on, Vonn, do as Heb asks,’ said Edana.
All eyes turned to the Princess. Or is it Queen, now? I suppose it is, as Brenin is dead. She was speaking more often now, certainly much more than in those first days when they had sailed away from Dun Carreg.
Slowly, seemingly reluctant, Vonn reached into his cloak, fumbled about and then pulled out a thick, leather-bound book.
Heb took it gingerly, Brina peering over his shoulder. He opened the cover.
‘By Asroth’s teeth,’ Brina said, eyes growing wide.
‘What is it?’ Marrock asked.
‘It’s a book,’ Brina said. ‘When we’ve read it we’ll tell you what’s in it, which is what I think you meant to ask.’
‘Aye, it is,’ Marrock said, looking abashed.
‘We will inspect it, see what we can make of it,’ Heb said more politely. ‘No need to be so rude,’ he said to Brina.
‘Oh, shut up and give me the book. I need a closer look.’
‘You’ll have to do it as we ride,’ Halion said. ‘We’d best move on.’
They rode hard all afternoon and into the evening, an increased sense of tension about them all. They were travelling through open meadows, and more than once had had to change their course to avoid small hamlets and cultivated fields. Once they had seen people poling coracles on a wide, glistening lake. Corban was not sure if those on the lake had seen them, but it was likely.
As the sun was sinking, Brina and Heb cantered up either side of him.
‘Heb and I want to talk to you now about the book,’ Brina said.
‘The book?’
‘Yes. The book that we took from Vonn, that he brought with him from Dun Carreg.’
‘Ah. That book.’