He glanced beyond them, saw the Jehar and a handful of other warriors. He recognized Jael amongst them.
‘Where is everyone else?’ A sick feeling grew in the pit of his gut, his thoughts turning to Kastell and Maquin.
‘There were casualties,’ Calidus said with a shrug. ‘This is a battlefield, Veradis. Men die.’
‘Men. What men?’
‘Many,’ snapped Calidus. ‘Romar fell, along with some of his men.’
‘All,’ Alcyon corrected.
‘All,’ Calidus repeated coldly. ‘A tragedy, but, such is the way of these things.’
Veradis stared at him, Kastell and Maquin’s faces hovering in his mind’s eye. I tried to warn them.
‘Come, Alcyon,’ Calidus said, turning away. ‘Clean up here, Veradis. We will meet later, talk of what happens next.’
Alcyon strode after Calidus, balancing the black axe over his shoulder. Akar remained with Veradis, frowning. He looked as if he was going to say something, wanted to say something, then he turned away and marched after Calidus, his black-clad warriors falling in behind him.
Veradis watched the light and shadow of the crackling fire flicker across Calidus’ face as he sat opposite him, deep in conversation with Lothar, battlechief to King Braster of Helveth.
Behind the counsellor, hidden in shadow, was the bulk of Alcyon. A dark mood had been upon him since the killing of the giant children. The black axe lay across his lap. In his hand was a long thin needle, black ink dripping from its tip. Veradis watched with fascination as Alcyon rhythmically stabbed at his forearm, adding more thorns to the swirling vine tattoo that marked the lives the giant had taken in battle. Veradis scowled. Are Kastell and Maquin marked by one of those thorns?
Akar sat at the fire with another of the Jehar, a dark-haired, sharp-featured woman. She looked young, as far as Veradis could tell, not much different in age from him. He frowned, still not comfortable with the thought of female warriors, and especially not ones as skilled as the Jehar.
Lothar made his farewells and strode off into the darkness. No one had wanted to camp amongst the silent graves of Haldis, so they had settled on the sloping approach to the burial grounds, not far from where Veradis had viewed the battle that morning. It seemed a long time ago.
Campfires flickered all along the ridge, warming the survivors of the battle. Around four thousand warriors had marched into Haldis. Fewer than a thousand had survived, and half of that number belonged to Veradis’ warband and the Jehar. Romar’s warband had been almost entirely destroyed, only Jael and a few score others surviving. Braster’s warband had fared little better, only the few hundred that had carried his wounded body from the field remained.
‘Well?’ Veradis said across the flames. ‘How is King Braster?’
‘His wound was not fatal,’ Calidus replied. ‘A hammer blow crushed his shoulder. Lothar said their healers are happy with the setting of his bones, so. .’ He shrugged. ‘He may not swing a sword again, but he’ll live.’
‘Good,’ Veradis said. He liked Braster. There was a gruff, blunt honesty about Helveth’s king. ‘So, what is our plan, now?’
‘Now it is time to find Nathair. We have been apart from him long enough.’
‘Excellent.’ Veradis had felt a fierce pride at being given command over this campaign, more so now for bringing his warband successfully through the conflict, even though he knew that Calidus and Alcyon had played a large part in that, counteracting the magic of the Hunen’s elementals. Throughout the whole campaign, though, he had felt a nagging worry about Nathair, knowing that his king, his friend, was sailing into the unknown in his search of the cauldron. He was Nathair’s first-sword; he should be at his side.
‘How will we find him?’ he asked. ‘He was about to sail for Ardan when we parted, but who knows where he is now?’
‘I have received word,’ Calidus said, tapping his head. ‘Remember, I was spymaster to the Vin Thalun for many years. Nathair is at Dun Carreg in Ardan. We will head there. Nathair needs us, needs his advisers about him. I will make sure that Lykos meets us there.’
‘Huh,’ Veradis muttered, not sure if he wanted to know how Calidus would manage that. He liked the thought of leaving this forest behind, but part of him still prickled with suspicion at the mention of the Vin Thalun. Some distrust burrowed deep.
‘So we leave on the morrow?’ Veradis asked.
‘At first light. We will travel east with Jael to Isiltir, then carry on to Ardan.’
‘Jael?’ Veradis said. He had disliked Kastell’s cousin the first moment he set eyes on him. He was a very different man from Kastell or Maquin, both of whom Veradis had considered friends and who now lay dead in the tunnels beneath Haldis. By whose hand Veradis did not know, and some part of him did not want to. Another part of him could think of nothing else. Let it go, a voice whispered in his head.
‘Yes. Jael,’ Calidus said. ‘Is there any problem with that?’
‘No,’ said Veradis. He thought of saying more but held his tongue.
‘Good. Jael has a strong claim to the throne of Isiltir, now that Romar is gone. And Nathair will support him in that claim.’
‘It is strange,’ Veradis said, the words spilling out, ‘how Romar and all his shieldmen died in the tunnels. Yet Jael survived.’ He raised his head and stared hard at Calidus.
The counsellor gave a thin-lipped smile. ‘It is war. These things happen.’
Calidus was right, men did fall in battle. Veradis had lost more shield-brothers than he cared to think about in battle, many of them friends, and he knew that in life things were not always clear cut. But this? What had happened in the tunnels felt like betrayal. ‘Did you see Romar die?’ Veradis pressed. ‘And the one that slew him?’
‘Oh yes,’ Calidus said, his face as expressionless as stone. ‘A giant slew Romar. Think more on the living than the dead, Veradis. We are all serving Nathair here. What we do is for the greater good, for Nathair’s good.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I hope that you have the conviction to serve your king fully.’
‘Of course I do,’ Veradis said. ‘Never doubt my loyalty to Nathair.’
‘Good.’ Calidus gave a faint smile. ‘Well, I am for my rest. We have an early start and a long journey ahead of us.’
Alcyon rose and followed Calidus into the darkness, Akar making to do the same.
‘Akar. Did you see Romar fall?’
‘Aye.’
‘And. .’
‘Calidus spoke true,’ Akar said. ‘A giant did slay Romar.’
‘Oh,’ said Veradis, both surprised and relieved. He had been so certain that Calidus had been involved.
‘A giant wielding a black-bladed battle-axe,’ Akar said, then turned and strode into the darkness.
CHAPTER FOUR
MAQUIN
‘I’m going to let you go, now. Don’t do anything stupid.’
The words filtered into Maquin’s mind as if from a great distance.
Where am I?
He opened his eyes, though at first it seemed to make little difference. It was pitch dark, his face was pressed hard against cold stone and a pain bloomed in his shoulder.
‘Careful. They’ve been gone a while, but sound carries in these tunnels,’ the same voice said.
Tunnels? Then it came back, an avalanche of memory. Haldis, the battle in the tunnels, Romar arguing with Calidus over that axe. Betrayal. Death. Kastell. .
‘Kas. .’ he breathed.
There was a long silence, then. ‘He’s dead. They’re all dead.’
Kastell.
He had seen Jael stab him, knew instantly that it was a killing blow. He had tried to get to him, but Orgull, captain of the Gadrai, had grabbed him, dragged him into the darkness while battle still raged nearby, though the end had been in no doubt. Romar, King of Isiltir, had been betrayed by Calidus of Tenebral. And by Jael.