‘Stitch over an infection and we’ll kill him, sure as a blade through his heart,’ Brina had said, so while the skin and flesh was red and inflamed the wound had been left open, allowing for any pus to drain, a compress of leaves and clean bandages bound about it twice a day. Now, though, the redness had gone, and it had stopped smelling bad, so Brina had ordered the wound stitched closed.
‘Just start, Ban,’ she said.
‘Have you done this before?’ Marrock asked, his words slurred from the poppy milk Brina had given him.
‘Not exactly,’ Corban said, holding a bone needle close to the stump that was Marrock’s wrist.
‘It’s no different from darning a sock,’ Brina said.
‘My arm’s no sock,’ Marrock blurted.
‘Shut up and drink your milk,’ Brina ordered.
Corban pressed hard, piercing the skin with a pop, then proceeded methodically.
‘This bit will feel strange,’ Corban warned, then pulled the thread tight, stretching Marrock’s skin across the open wound, closing it off. He tied a knot in the thread and Brina cut it with a knife.
‘It will feel uncomfortable, and it will itch,’ Brina said. ‘Any pain — tell me immediately.’
Marrock inspected Corban’s stitching and nodded at him.
‘You’re doing well,’ Brina said to Marrock as Corban applied a salve to the skin and bandaged it off. ‘You haven’t died, which I expected a few days ago.’
‘No, but I’ll not be drawing a bow again.’
‘There’s more to life than shooting pointy things into people,’ Brina said.
Marrock snorted. ‘What use is a huntsman who can’t draw a bow?’ He looked straight at Corban, bitterness twisting his features.
‘There’s plenty of other new and exciting ways to get yourself killed,’ Brina said. ‘No doubt you’ll discover some of them soon enough.’ She walked away.
‘I can still feel it, you know. My hand, my fingers,’ Marrock said. ‘I would still have it if we’d sailed to the marshes and Dun Crin.’ He glanced at Halion, who was at the edge of their camp, looking back the way they’d travelled.
There’s been a tension between them since we fled Dun Carreg, and now Marrock blames Halion for the loss of his hand. This bothered Corban, particularly as he had great respect for both men. Halion he knew better, though, from the countless days of toil and hard work in the Rowan Field. He knew that, whatever Halion did, whatever choices he made, he was not acting out of self-interest.
‘He chose what he thought was best for Edana,’ Corban said quietly, gathering his tools.
‘Did he? Maybe he just wants to go home.’
‘I’ve never known him to choose something he thought to be wrong. Even his own brother.’
Marrock stared at him, the hardness fading from his eyes. ‘Aye, lad. Don’t listen to me, I’m just. .’ he trailed off, his gaze dropping back to the stump where his hand used to be.
Corban squeezed his arm and followed after Brina.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ Brina asked him. ‘Your face looks like its been squashed.’
‘That was harsh, what you said to Marrock.’
‘Sympathy will feed his self-pity,’ Brina said, a softness edging her voice, ‘and he has some dark days ahead.’
Corban lay on his belly, staring down a steep slope into a valley. A river wound through it, marking the border of Cambren. A stone bridge arched across the fast-flowing water, houses clustered upon either bank. The road on the far side climbed upwards, twisting into the mountains. They were in a no-man’s-land between the two realms of Cambren and Domhain.
On the far side of those mountains is Domhain and safety.
That was the hope, anyway. Halion had said that when he had travelled the other way, coming from Domhain into Cambren, there had only been a handful of guards, a token force.
Not now, though.
Warriors were everywhere: standing guard on the bridge, walking the few streets, their tents spilling onto a coarse stretch of grass alongside the river. Corban had tried counting and lost track when he reached ninety.
‘Rhin is no fool,’ Camlin whispered beside him.
‘Unfortunately for us,’ said Halion.
The rest of their group were a few hundred paces behind them, huddled about a stand of gorse. The land had turned bleaker, more barren the higher they had climbed. They had broken camp before sunrise and set out as soon as dawn had lit their way. The sun had been up a while now, though it was still well before highsun. The sky was full of thick low cloud, the air humid.
Corban felt his eyelids drooping. They had been travelling hard, but still their pursuers had drawn closer each day, until now they were almost constantly within sight.
‘We can’t stay here,’ Camlin said, echoing Corban’s thoughts.
‘No, but there’s no way across that bridge. We couldn’t fight our way through; there’s too many of them.’ Halion glanced over his shoulder back along the track. ‘We’ll have to try another way.’
They all looked up at the mountains, grim and forbidding. In the distance a wolven howled; Storm tensed, ears twitching.
‘Best be moving,’ Camlin said. ‘P’raps we can shadow the giants’ road, join up to it once we’re deeper into the mountains, and away from Rhin’s eyes an’ ears.’
‘That’s a plan I like,’ Halion said.
They scrambled back down the slope to their companions, shared the bad news and set off into the mountains. Camlin rode ahead, scouting their path.
Craf fluttered down out of the cloudy sky to land on Brina’s saddle. The crow had been keeping track of their hunters.
‘Fast,’ the crow squawked.
‘Faster than us?’ Brina asked.
The crow bobbed its head.
‘Something will have to be done, soon,’ said Heb, who was riding close by. He and Brina shared a look.
They’re talking about the earth power, Corban thought.
Dogs barked somewhere behind and Corban twisted in his saddle. Dark shapes were visible in the distance, near to where they had stopped to view the pass into the mountains. Shapes broke away from the main party and disappeared down the slope as they moved towards the river ford. And towards the warriors camped there. Will probably get them hunting for us, too. Things are not looking good.
They travelled as fast as they could, dismounting at sunset and leading their horses, for fear of twisted or broken legs. A cold night was followed by a grey morning. They were back in the saddle before the sun had risen, winding ever deeper into the mountains.
The path they were following was little more than a fox’s trail running more or less parallel to the giants’ road. A sheer rock face rose up ahead and the path veered around it, moving deeper into the mountain wilderness. Corban hoped that at some point it would veer back, but it didn’t look likely.
Just before highsun Camlin came cantering back from scouting ahead. He was frowning. He rode to Edana and Halion, pulling up before them, but spoke loud enough for all to hear.
‘The path dips ahead, follows a stream and broadens out. It’s good land to travel on for a while, but then it rises an’ turns narrow right quick. Won’t be easy going.’
‘Easier than turning back,’ said Halion.
‘Aye, true enough. There’s something else: I think we’re heading into a wolven pack’s territory. Found some spoor and a carcass of something — looks like a horse.’
‘We have a wolven of our own,’ Edana said.
‘Aye. One. This is a pack. In my experience that means anywhere between four and ten of them and they won’t like us in their territory. We’ll need t’be careful.’
Brina spoke quietly to Craf. Corban thought he heard the word wolven, then the bird was flapping away, this time ahead of them.
Brina and Corban checked on Marrock as they let their horses drink and refilled water skins.