Grim Company 02 - Sword Of The North (59 page)

‘Three of you?
’ Eremul rasped, once he had recovered breath enough to speak. The crowd had started rioting, whatever glamour that had enthralled them now shattered. The Crimson Watch were under attack from men brandishing knives and other weapons they must have secreted under their clothes. As the Halfmage took in the chaos, he realized that many of those at the heart of the commotion must be mind-controlled fanatics, strategically positioned among the crowd.

‘You’ve met our brother Isaac,’ Melissan said. ‘It was he who arranged to transport our army of thralls – those implanted with our technology – into the city. Isaac is with the First Fleet now. It will arrive soon.’

There was a loud bang as the first firebomb exploded in the plaza and the stench of burning flesh filled the air.

Then the screams started.

‘Why?’ Eremul whispered above the tumult. ‘Why cut me down? Why spare me?’

‘Our brother Isaac commanded that you be unharmed, at least for now. You should know it is but a temporary respite – the humans we massacred at the Celestial Isles were but the first. We will not stop until your entire race is purged from these lands.’

They reached the Greenwild just as the late-autumn snow began to fall.

Kayne wiped frost from his beard with the back of his hand and checked to see how the orphans were faring. Somehow they’d made it to the edge of the great forest without losing a single child, though Tiny Tom had fallen badly ill yesterday afternoon and others were showing signs of sickness. Every one of the orphans was cold and miserable – but against all the odds they were
alive
.

Boots crunched on the frosty grass and Brick came to stand beside Kayne. Together they stared into the depths of the Greenwild.

‘He’s gone, isn’t he?’ Brick said eventually, breaking the silence. Near a week had passed since their encounter with the gholam, and in that time the youngster had said very little. They’d been busy with seeing the foundlings to safety, true enough, but the old warrior knew there was more to it than that. The way Brick struggled to meet his gaze reminded him of Magnar in years gone by.

Kayne blinked snow from his eyes. ‘Aye,’ he said simply. ‘He’s gone.’

A gust of wind howled through the trees and Brick shivered. Like Kayne, he’d given his cloak to the orphans to help keep them warm. ‘He saved us all in the end.’

Kayne nodded.

Brick turned to watch Corinn as she portioned out the meagre reserves of food that remained. For his part, the boy barely seemed to eat a thing. He’d been thin before, but now he looked gaunt, all skin and bone. ‘Why didn’t tell you tell him the truth?’ the youngster asked.

Kayne watched his breath mist in the early-morning air, trying to think of the right answer to that question. The honest answer. ‘Sometimes a lie builds until the truth does more harm than good,’ he replied. ‘That and I’m a bloody old fool.’

‘He would have followed you to the ends of the earth.’

Kayne grunted and turned away. With considerable effort he knelt down and pretended to check the ground for tracks. In truth he didn’t have a clue what he was looking for, but the movement helped hide his face from Brick. ‘He was the most loyal friend a man could wish for,’ he said gruffly. ‘Ain’t many like him around these days.’

He remembered the Wolf’s final words to him.
If I ever see you again I’ll kill you. That’s a promise.

Jerek wouldn’t see him again; he knew that with a certainty. The gholam was a weapon forged by the gods, an unstoppable killing machine that no man could hope to outrun, not down in those forsaken ruins. The fact Jerek had bought them time to flee to safety was astonishing enough. If anyone could’ve managed that, it was the Wolf.

‘The children are ready to move. Are you crying?’

Kayne uttered a silent curse and blinked away tears as Jana Shah Shan suddenly loomed over him. He hadn’t heard her approach. The woman moved as quiet as a ghost.

‘I’m fine,’ he grunted. ‘Damn snow getting in my eyes.’ He straightened slowly, his creaking knees hurting worse than ever. ‘We can build a fire once we’re inside the forest. Keep everyone warm until this passes.’

‘Won’t that draw the attention of the Wildfolk?’

‘It might, but we can fight ’em if it comes to it. There ain’t no fighting the cold.’

Jana nodded and turned to help Corinn, who was trying to get Milo to eat something. The tiny orphan kept asking about Grunt. He was too young to understand that his big green friend wouldn’t be coming back.

‘I can hunt us some game,’ Brick said. ‘Jerek taught me how.’

Kayne watched the flame-haired youngster fiddle with his bow and felt a warm pride in the boy. He was turning into a man and a true one at that. If he’d done anything right these last few months it was sparing Brick’s life when he’d had the chance.

With Kayne and Brick leading the way, the odd little group entered the Greenwild. As the forest welcomed them into its snow-swept embrace, Kayne offered the spirits a silent prayer for seeing them this far.

He also said a prayer for friends lost along the way. For Jerek. For Grunt. Even for Brick’s uncle Glaston. He couldn’t shake the feeling he would be joining them soon enough.

Days merged into each other as they followed the rough paths leading north through the Greenwild. The weather grew colder, but even late in autumn the forest canopy above sheltered them from the worst vagaries of the approaching winter. Occasionally a snowstorm would shake the trees and cover the woodland floor in a blanket of white, but there was plenty of firewood to burn and game to hunt and water to refill their empty skins. Brick brought back rabbits and deer, even a small wild boar, though Kayne almost put his back out dragging the beast to camp. They ate well, however, and soon the children were in much better spirits.

One mild evening, a week after they first crossed into the Greenwild, Corinn was attempting to start a fire without success while Kayne and Brick sat together preparing dinner. The old Highlander gave the youngster a nudge and nodded at the struggling girl. ‘Seems like a good opportunity to lend a hand.’

‘Huh?’ Brick looked up from skinning a rabbit and pretended to notice Corinn for the first time that evening. His green eyes narrowed. ‘I’m a little busy right now,’ he said, fixing the tiny carcass with a good, hard stare as if to prove his point.

Kayne reached out and placed a firm hand on the boy’s arm. ‘I can take care of that,’ he said. ‘The girl’s been through hell seeing these little ’uns all to safety. I reckon she could use a friend.’

‘Jana’s her friend!’

‘Jana’s busy.’

Jana Shah Shan was practising her combat postures at the edge of the forest clearing. A handful of children watched, though by now many were bored of the routine. Jana did the same thing for hours each night, pushing herself as hard as she could, immersing herself in her Unity.

Kayne figured he knew why. The shame in her eyes still hadn’t faded. She’d frozen back there in the ruins, lost her discipline and submitted to her fear. It had happened to him once and he knew from experience that it could take years to recover, to forgive oneself for that moment of weakness.

Corinn was still struggling to start the campfire. She threw the flint at the ground and rubbed her teary eyes in frustration, the sort that wasn’t solely down to the matter at hand. Kayne was about to climb to his feet and offer the girl some help when, to his surprise, Brick clambered up and went to her.

‘All right?’ he said guardedly.

Corinn looked at him with her pretty blue eyes. ‘Yes,’ she said slowly.

Brick glanced back at Kayne, rising panic on his face. He looked as though he were about to flee. The old warrior gave him an encouraging wave. ‘
Go on
,’ he mouthed silently.

Brick hesitated, frozen by indecision. Lucky for him, Corinn took the lead. ‘I’m trying to start a fire,’ she said.

‘Well… you’re doing it wrong.’

‘Bloody hell, Brick,’ Kayne mouthed.
You’re as bad as the Wolf
, he was about to add, but in the end it didn’t feel right. Fortunately, Brick seemed to realize something more was required.

‘I can help you. If you want,’ he finished lamely.

Corinn brushed a few strands of blond hair from her face and nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said.

A moment later the two of them had a fire going. Brick risked a satisfied half-smile, but something on Corinn’s face must have startled him as it faded immediately. ‘Are you crying?’ he asked.

‘No. Well, a little. I was remembering my father.’

Brick hesitated. ‘Is he waiting for you? Up in the mountains?’

‘He’s dead.’

‘Oh. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay.’

A moment of silence passed. ‘My uncle died recently. He was like a father to me, too. I miss him.’

Kayne forced himself to stop listening at that point. He turned away and reached into the bag at his waist. He took out the small bundle wrapped in cloth, opened it and stared at the contents. At the old silver ring. At the lock of hair Mhaira had given to him when she became so sick he was certain he would lose her. The memory of those few days still gave him nightmares.

He stared at the knife he’d fashioned for Magnar’s fourteenth naming day. The image of his son trapped in a wicker cage wormed its way into his mind again and he fumbled the knife. He picked it up with shaking hands and looked around, afraid someone might have seen. If any of the children had noticed, they were too young to understand. His gaze settled on Brick and Corinn. Even in his grief he managed a small smile.

They were standing side by side by the fire, their hands clasped tightly together.

The next day they came across the devastation that had been inflicted on the Greenwild during the fight between Yllandris and her pursuers.

Swathes of forest had been reduced to blackened wasteland. At one point, nothing but a thick carpet of ash covered the ground for miles. The scale of the damage was appalling, and despite everything Kayne found himself feeling sorry for the Wildfolk that had come looking for vengeance. They were just as much victims as anyone else.

They encountered no living Wildfolk as they continued north through the burned-out forest. With a heavy heart, Kayne wondered if the group that had accompanied Ryder to Mal-Torrad had been the last of their kind. The Wildfolk had dwelled within the Greenwild for centuries, before the coming of the Shaman. Their passing would be another small tragedy in an age that had already seen so many peoples fade from the world.

As they crossed yet another field of ash, Brick spotted a strange sight. A circle of trees stood undamaged in the wasteland: an island of green amidst the ruin. Corinn recognized it immediately. ‘The Nexus Glade,’ she gasped from where she walked beside Brick. The two youngsters spent all their time together now.

‘You know this place?’ Kayne asked.

Corinn nodded. ‘This is where the iron man and the others caught up with us.’

‘How’d it survive the fire?’

‘This place is blessed,’ Corinn replied. ‘The spirits watch over it.’

Kayne turned and waited for Jana, who was hanging back to ensure none of the orphans wandered off. ‘You mind stopping here with the children? I don’t want the little ’uns seeing anything that might upset them.’

Jana called a halt, and together with Brick and Corinn Kayne made his way into the mysterious glade. He half expected a scene of mass slaughter, but what he found instead was a sight that made his old heart ache. The body of a young woman lay curled up on the grass. She had a deep wound in her chest where the killing blow had been delivered, but her expression was strangely peaceful in death. An old canvas sack lay nearby. Kayne saw it and thought of Grunt.

‘Yllandris,’ Corinn gasped suddenly. She rushed over, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Brick examined the sack. ‘It’s filled with bones.’

‘The remains of the children Krazka sacrificed to the Herald,’ Corinn said, cradling the body of the woman in her arms. ‘Yllandris wanted to bury them here.’

Kayne cracked his fingers. ‘Brick, help me find a sturdy branch. I’m gonna need to build a shovel.’

They spent the next hour digging four graves for the sad remains of the orphans and the pretty sorceress. As they laid them to rest, a thought occurred to Kayne. ‘This young woman,’ he said to Corinn. ‘Did she know Magnar?’

Corinn started as if surprised by the question. ‘She was his paramour.’

Kayne froze. ‘His paramour?’

‘You know. His… lover. Ever since last year. He was very fond of her. Or at least that’s what all the women used to say.’

‘Did… did she love him? My son, I mean. Did she love my son?’

‘People used to say mean things about her. That she wasn’t capable of loving anyone except herself. But I heard the way she spoke about Magnar after we fled town. She loved him.’ Corinn glanced at Brick and flushed slightly.

‘I never knew,’ Kayne said brokenly. He was burying his son’s first love – and he’d never even known her.

When finally they left the Greenwild, it was to be met by the breathtaking sight of rolling white hills. The Green Reaching was covered in snow as far as the eye could see.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Brick said, awestruck.

‘It’s home,’ Kayne said simply. Behind him the foundlings made happy noises and began scooping up handfuls of snow. Tiny Tom was feeling much better now, and he threw a handful of snow at Milo, squealing in delight.

Jana looked around, her eyes wide in amazement. ‘It’s like a white sea,’ she said in wonder.

‘Does it ever snow where you’re from?’ Kayne asked.

‘Once, when I was a girl. But nothing like this.’

Kayne closed his eyes for a moment. He was remembering the morning he and Mhaira and Magnar had been playing out in the snowy fields just before he’d been called away to the war. Those had been simpler times. Happier times. His reminiscing was abruptly shattered by Brick nudging him in the ribs.

‘Men approaching,’ the boy hissed. ‘Dozens. And they’re armed.’