‘Your sister, Coralen, she doesn’t fight fair,’ Corban said, a throbbing in his back reminding him of their sword-crossing.
‘No. She’s good, though.’ Halion grinned at him.
‘She put me on my back easy enough. Reminded me of Conall, though with a sharper tongue.’
Halion looked sad at that. ‘Aye. She spent a lot of time with Conall, growing up. He was always the one she looked up to. She’s not as hard as she pretends, though.’
‘I’d have to disagree. Did you see her kill that giant back in the hills?’
‘I mean on the inside. She’s grown up around men, been around warriors her whole life. Her mam abandoned her when she was young, and Rath took her into his hold, but that is a place for warriors, not bairns.’ Halion shrugged. ‘That’s all she’s ever known.’
Hard on the outside, soft on the inside. A list of her cutting comments came to mind. I’m not seeing it.
‘Where’s Edana?’ Corban asked Halion.
‘She’s already with the King — and it’s Queen Edana, remember. If her own people can’t give her due respect, neither will the folk of Domhain.’
‘Sorry,’ Corban mumbled. It was not that he didn’t respect Edana as his queen; of course he did; it was just that she was his friend, too. He understood Halion’s logic, though.
‘A word of warning, Corban. Be wary of Roisin. She is proud, cunning, jealous. Her son Lorcan is heir to the throne, and protecting his claim is her one ambition. Think before every word that you say to her. Also, because my father is old, do not think his wits have deserted him. He has a sharp mind when he is not distracted, and he still likes looking at the women.’
‘He is still the same, then, as you remember him?’
‘Much the same, though diminished. More cautious. This meeting with you could help — my da is a complicated man, part of him a thinker, part of him spontaneous, wild in his youth, I am told. He can be ruled by his heart, as with Roisin. He likes Edana, I can tell, partly because she is young and female, true, but he likes her spirit, I think. She is no longer the meek sheltered child that she was. And you and your wolven — there is a magic in your story, our story, the escape from Dun Carreg and through Cambren to here. It appeals to my father. That could be helpful in the end. We need his help. And if we are right, Rhin will probably be turning her covetous glance this way soon enough.’
‘It doesn’t sound very safe here for Edana,’ Corban said.
‘No. But where is safer? Ardan, where she would have been hunted by Owain, or Cambren, where Rhin rules? I trust Da where Edana is concerned. He knew Brenin and respected him. I am sure he will treat Edana well.’
‘Would this Roisin do anything to Edana?’
‘I’ll not let her,’ Halion said. ‘I swore an oath, to Brenin and Edana. I could not save Brenin, but I’ll die before I see any harm come to his daughter.’
Looking at Halion’s expression Corban did not doubt him.
Soon they were in King Eremon’s chambers, situated in the lower levels of Dun Taras’ tower. Apparently he had given up his rooms at the top of the tower a long time ago, because he didn’t like the long climb.
It was a large room, a fire burning in a hearth against one wall holding back the autumn chill. Eremon was sitting upon a fur-wreathed chair, his hair white, his skin waxy and loose. His eyes were still young, though, sea grey, like Halion’s. They lingered upon Corban, then dropped to Storm.
‘Ah, the wolven tamer, at last. Stories of you are spreading about my keep faster than the west wind,’ Eremon said.
Corban walked forward and dropped to one knee, bowing his head.
‘Rise,’ Eremon said.
‘My Queen,’ Corban said to Edana as he stood, seeing her seated on a smaller chair close to the King. She gave him a warm smile. Fech the raven was perched on the arm of her chair. A jet-haired woman sat at Eremon’s other side.
Roisin.
With her lips a deep red in a face as pale as alabaster she was beautiful, and Corban’s eyes were drawn to her as he bowed.
‘I have heard much about you and your wolven,’ Eremon said. He held his hand out to Storm.
‘Careful,’ Roisin said.
‘Hush, woman,’ Eremon said irritably. ‘I’ve two hands, and I only need one to scratch my arse with.’ He looked back to Storm.
‘Friend,’ Corban whispered, and Storm padded forwards. She seemed bigger, now that she was indoors, tall enough to look the seated King in the eye. Her long canines glinted in the firelight. She took a long sniff of Eremon’s palm, her amber eyes regarding him. Then she went to Edana and nudged the Queen’s leg with her muzzle. Edana ran her fingers through the thick fur about Storm’s neck. The wolven flopped down at her feet.
Eremon was watching her keenly. ‘Amazing. She is quite relaxed, and knows you well, Edana.’
‘Of course. We are pack,’ Edana said.
‘Come then, Corban,’ Eremon said. ‘Tell me how this came to be. I imagine it’s quite the tale.’
Corban sat at Eremon’s feet and recounted his tale, of finding Storm’s mother in the Baglun, then saving Storm as a pup. Eremon called for a chair to be brought forward for Corban as the tale wound on to when Corban had given Storm up, after she had wounded Rafe, and how she had followed him to Narvon, how she had helped track Edana through the Darkwood, and on until they had reached the mountains between Cambren and Domhain. When he was finished Eremon sat there a while in silence.
‘What a tale,’ Eremon eventually said. ‘How old are you?’
‘Nearly seventeen summers, my lord,’ Corban said.
‘Nearly.’ Eremon grinned. ‘I remember wishing my years away. As you get older you start wishing for the opposite. Or at least for a time when you didn’t have to wake to use the pot half a dozen times a night.’
Corban didn’t know what to say to that. He found himself liking Eremon.
‘Quite the tale,’ Eremon repeated, ‘at any age. Made all the more so by its truth. I don’t know you, but I know Halion well enough to be an honest man, and Queen Edana of course vouches for your tale’s accuracy. Remarkable.’
‘I have never given any thought to it, my lord,’ Corban said. ‘It just happened.’
‘And I bet it gets you a lot of attention from the ladies.’ Eremon winked.
Corban felt himself blushing at that.
‘You are very lucky, Edana, to have such devoted — and unique — protectors about you,’ said Roisin, speaking for the first time. Her voice had a lilting quality, almost musical.
‘Yes, I am,’ Edana said. ‘Corban is part of the reason that I am still alive. As is Halion. When I have regained my kingdom they shall both be rewarded for their loyalty. As will any who support me in my quest for justice.’
Eremon smiled slyly at that, but said nothing.
‘You must be thirsty, Corban, after all that talking,’ Roisin said, clapping her hands. Servants brought a table and filled it with cups, jugs, an assortment of foods: fruits, cold meats, cheese and dark bread.
‘You are Eremon’s kin, and he will do what he can to help you,’ Roisin assured Edana. ‘But we need to have all of the facts at our disposal first. Then we can make an informed decision of what is the best course of action for Domhain.’
‘But I have told you the facts,’ Edana said, an edge to her voice.
This is not the first time they have had this conversation, Corban thought.
‘Owain has invaded Ardan, my mother and father have been betrayed and murdered. And Rhin is the puppeteer behind it all. She plans to rule the west.’
‘With all due respect, those are the facts as you know them. But one version of events is never usually the whole truth.’ Roisin turned her gaze pointedly at Halion.