‘Well, there you are then. Sometimes it’s better not to think — especially those of us that lean towards the cynical.’
‘Are we going to continue, with the book? Learning?’
‘I don’t know, Ban. Truth be told, I don’t want to do much of anything. Things were different when. .’ She trailed off again.
When Heb was here, he finished for her. Awkwardly, scared that she might shout at him, or hit him, he reached out and put a hand over hers, gently squeezed.
He felt a tremor pass through her as tears spilt down her cheeks.
They sat there like that for a long time. The only sounds were the crackle of flames in the fire-pit, the occasional slurp of tea.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
VERADIS
Veradis paused in his climb up the mountain path. He was sweating beneath his clothes, but as soon as he stopped he felt the bite of the wind. It was cold in these mountains, colder than Veradis had ever felt. He had traded his leather kilt and iron-shod sandals over a moon ago for woollen breeches and boots, and his cloak was lined with fur, but still he was cold.
‘Stop shivering. Keep walking,’ Alcyon said to him as the giant reached him.
That’s helpful.
They were part of a scouting party sent into the mountains that separated Cambren from Domhain. The bulk of the warband was camped a few leagues east, where a road cut a deep crevice through the mountains. Scouts had confirmed that King Eremon had massed a sizeable force further along the road, where it spilt into Domhain. The battle for Domhain would most likely take place there.
The giant Uthas led their group, he was showing a handful of Rhin’s scouts the route he had taken through the mountains. Veradis had asked to come along because he wanted to see the site of this battle that had become almost legend, between Rhin’s warriors, those they had been tracking and a wolven pack. For some unknown reason Alcyon had decided to come too, even though it was clear to Veradis that he did not like the company of Uthas or the other two giants that had joined them.
They had stopped up ahead, Uthas and his giant companions outlined at the ravine’s head. Veradis pulled his cloak tight and marched on.
Snow sprinkled a wide dell that the narrow path opened up into. Tiered cliffs curled around it, wind-beaten trees growing on ledges. Veradis could only stare and wonder at what had occurred here.
There were bodies everywhere, or what was left of them. A mound of half-eaten corpses was piled close to the dell’s entrance, arrows and broken bones evidencing the violence that had sent them across the bridge of swords. They weren’t just human. Wolven scattered the ground, wide rib-cages picked clean of flesh, as well as other animal carcasses — horses, Veradis realized. Parts of the dell bore the signs of a great fire, even trees and boulders blackened and charred.
Some at least survived, were victorious even. The ones that Uthas and his band met further along the road.
Alcyon was inspecting the twisted trunk of a burned-out tree. He rubbed his fingers against the blackened bark, sniffed them, touched them to his tongue.
‘What is it?’ Veradis asked him.
‘The fire.’ Alcyon frowned. ‘It was not natural.’
‘You mean, sorcery?’
‘Elementals.’
‘But how? Who?’
Alcyon shrugged. ‘Your enemies are resourceful.’
‘Our enemies,’ Veradis corrected.
Alcyon showed him his teeth, what passed for a humourless smile.
They searched a while longer, but the scene yielded little more information.
Veradis had brought the lad from Ardan, Rafe, thinking that he might be useful, but the bodies were too decomposed or gnawed upon to be recognizable. Uthas and his two giant companions — one with a great axe, the other female — stood to one side, watching.
‘This is not where I met these people. That place is further on,’ Uthas said to Veradis.
‘Then lead on.’
They spent a night on the mountain; Veradis shivered through most of it. It was Hunter’s Moon, the seasons passing from autumn to winter, but back in Tenebral the chill would be easily banished by a good cloak. Not here. Veradis woke with frost in his beard and a dusting of snow over the ground. Back at the main campsite it had been cold, the morning training taking place in frost-stiffened grass, but nothing like this.
Uthas grinned at him as they shared strips of salted meat and washed it down with cold water.
‘This is warm,’ Uthas said. ‘Never come north to Murias. On a cold day your urine will be frozen before it hits the ground.’ His companions chuckled at that, but Veradis didn’t find it funny.
‘We will enter Domhain today,’ Uthas said. ‘We may have to stop before we reach the site you wish to see. Eremon will have scouts up here.’
‘We will see,’ Veradis said.
They walked for half a day, following a winding path little more than a fox’s trail. They crested a ridge, all of them hurrying across its peak so as to give no easily seen silhouette, and then stopped a little way down the other side. Hills carpeted in thick pine rolled into the distance, the hint of green land beyond them.
Domhain.
They set off along a quickly widening trail, the ground sloping ever downwards now. Veradis saw a humped mound on the path, saw it was a dead wolven, again its carcass mostly stripped. They passed into light woodland, the ground thick with pine needles, and soon came to a clearing. It was full of bodies. Veradis whispered an order and Rhin’s scouts moved through the glade and then faded into the surrounding trees.
The female giant gave out a fractured wail and crouched by a corpse — a giant.
Veradis tried to make sense of it — wolven and giants ranked highest amongst the dead this time, and this time there was a cairn, so the victors had lingered to pay respect to their fallen. The wolven corpses drew his eye, though. Something about them. It took Veradis a few moments to realize what was different.
They’ve been skinned. Though I’m not surprised, a wolven pelt would be a handy thing in this cold.
‘Tell me again what you saw, Uthas,’ Veradis said.
‘A company burst upon us — they were a mixed company — warriors, women, carrying injured.’
Those that had survived the previous battle, Veradis thought.
‘And there were wolven with them?’
‘Aye. One to begin with. Then others came soon after. Four, five, I am not sure.’
‘The wolven fought each other,’ the giant with the axe said. Salach.
‘That is true,’ Uthas said. ‘I remember now. A black one fought a white one. Over there.’
They all moved to where Uthas pointed. Close by were the remains of a wolven, little flesh left on the bones, the skull picked clean. The ground was littered with torn fragments of skin, sinew. No fur.
‘A white wolven, you say?’
‘Aye.’
That must have been Corban’s wolven. It was them, then, fled all this way from Ardan. So Edana was here as well. And Rauca’s killer, most likely: Gar.
And Corban. The Black Sun. Cywen’s brother. His thoughts turned to her. She had proved pleasant company, once she had left Ardan and stopped trying to murder people. Over the last part of their march through Cambren he had found himself seeking her out, enjoying the conversations they had. She made him laugh, even if her tongue was often as sharp as the knives she liked to use. He liked her.
He shook his head. Concentrate on what’s in front of you.
‘Let’s have a look inside that cairn.’
There were two corpses inside, a warrior, sword placed across his chest, and an old man, white hair whipping across the stones. His body looked deflated, creased, like a sail with no wind in it.