Malice (70 page)

‘I wanted to thank you,’ he said. ‘For what you did.’

Corban shrugged.

‘It would have turned out bad. If you had not helped.’

Corban had not known what to say, so Farrell had just stood there a few moments, then turned and walked away.

Since then, though, he had seen quite a lot of Farrell – not so much to speak to, but just, around, hovering.

A figure loomed out of the darkness, wrapped tight in one of their company’s grey cloaks.

‘May I join you?’ Heb the loremaster said, looking between Gwenith and Brina.

‘Of course,’ said Gwenith. ‘Make space, everyone.’

‘Pfah,’ snorted Brina, but shuffled over to make more room at the fireside. ‘Why are we so honoured?’ she said. ‘To choose our fireside over Brenin’s?’

Heb scowled at her. ‘As abrasive as your company may be, my dear lady,’ he said, smiling falsely, ‘it is more preferable by far to those seeking to
ingratiate
themselves with Brenin.’

‘Oh?’ prompted Brina. ‘Uthan not to your liking?’

‘I am not speaking of Uthan,’ Heb grumbled. ‘Oh, he is quite dull, but the poor boy can’t help that, with a father like Owain. No, it is Gethin’s
crowing
and Evnis’
fawning
that I object to. He thinks us all halfwits, blind to his clumsy attempts at manoeuvring Vonn as a candidate for Edana. Not that I even care much about that. Brenin can marry her off to whomever he wishes, though I am certain it will not be to any son of Evnis. I just resent being treated as a fool.’

‘Perhaps you’ve come to the wrong fireside, then,’ Brina said, causing a ripple of laughter.

‘Being
called
a fool and being
treated
as a fool are two entirely different things, my dear,’ Heb replied, smiling faintly. ‘At least the conversation here may keep me awake.’

Corban grinned now. Brina and Heb were almost a match, he thought, in terms of wits and sharp tongues. It would be an entertaining evening.

Thannon leaned close to Corban and patted his son’s knee with a big, calloused hand. ‘Not long till your nameday, Ban,’ he said quietly. Corban shivered with excitement.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Thannon said. ‘Once we get back, we should start work on your sword.’

Corban grinned. ‘That would be fine,’ he said. Finally, a real sword, hard iron instead of a wooden stick. ‘Mighty fine.’

Thannon smiled back at him.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

CYWEN

Cywen didn’t like the stables at Uthandun: they felt too new. She was riding out today with Princess Edana and her parents. Most of their horses were stabled in meadows outside the fortress, but the royal mounts were kept within Uthandun’s walls. She frowned to herself and shivered unaccountably. Something here didn’t feel right. She wanted to go home.

Don’t be such a bairn
. She led her saddled horse out into the yard where Edana were already mounted.

And anyway, she had no reason to feel this way. Quite the opposite. Ronan had asked her to walk with him last night. He made her laugh and blush in equal measure. He had spoken of
them
as a couple, of asking her da for permission to court her. She felt a fluttering in her stomach, just at the thought of it, could still taste his lips. She shook her head and looked around shyly, as if people could guess her thoughts, just by looking at her. But no one was paying her any attention. Except Ronan, of course. They shared a smile.

They were going for a ride in the Darkwood today, King Brenin having said to King Owain that he would like to see something of the forest. Owain had immediately put a guide at their disposal.

Queen Alona was also coming with her husband, which meant Tull and a score more stern-faced warriors. She mounted quietly.

There was a clatter of hooves and Vonn rode into the yard. He dipped his head to Alona.

‘King Brenin sends his apologies,’ he said stiffly, ‘but he and my father are unable to ride out today. They have been unavoidably detained.’

‘Oh,’ said Alona, then frowned. ‘This place is so dull,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Well, as we are all here ready, we might as well go without them – wouldn’t you say, Tull?’

‘Whatever you wish, my lady.’

‘Will you join us, Vonn?’ she asked.

‘I am afraid not,’ the young man said. ‘My father bid me return to him as soon as I have passed on this message.’

‘Then I’d best not keep you,’ Alona said.

‘My lady.’ He dipped his head and turned his horse.

‘Why the long face, Vonn?’ Edana asked as he passed them.

‘Huh? Nothing.’ He shrugged. ‘Father . . .’ he muttered, then shook his head. ‘Nothing. Or nothing you would understand, anyway.’

Edana frowned.

Cywen scowled at Vonn, suddenly remembering that day in the paddock, when he had confronted Ban, when Shield had killed the hound. ‘Perhaps you have broken his heart, Edana,’ she said, ‘now that he knows the two of you will never be handbound.’ It was common knowledge that Evnis had been manoeuvring Vonn as a potential husband for Princess Edana. According to Edana, last night her father had made it clear to Evnis that this would never happen.

Vonn smiled humourlessly at her and leaned over in his saddle. ‘Would you hear a secret?’ he said quietly, not waiting for a reply. ‘I am glad that we will not be bound. Glad. I love another.’

‘Who?’ the two girls said together.

Vonn grinned, suddenly looking handsome, and touched a finger to his nose. He kicked his horse on and left the yard.

Soon all were gathered for the ride, a score of grey-cloaked warriors about them. Tull headed the column, towering over Alona and the red-cloaked guide, a huntsman of Uthandun. Then they were on their way, through the hard-packed streets of Uthandun, out onto the green hill, and suddenly Cywen felt her spirits lift. She saw Corban standing by the bridge that spanned the river. There was only time to smile at him, then they had passed him by, cantering over the bridge and turning west along the river’s bank before their guide veered under the trees of the Darkwood.

‘Who do you think it is?’ Edana said to Cywen as they trotted down a dappled path, the sun making shifting patterns on the ground as branches above swayed in the breeze.

‘Who what is?’ said Cywen.

‘Vonn’s mystery girl.’

‘I did not think him the type to fall in love. He always seemed too arrogant.’

‘There are always females
hovering
around him, though,’ Edana said.

‘Like flies,’ muttered Cywen.

‘Maybe he smells bad,’ Edana said.

Cywen laughed.

‘But I’ve never seen him look interested in any other women,’ Edana continued.

‘Thought he only had eyes for you?’ Cywen said. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ Edana said sharply. ‘I just hate not knowing. We shall have to watch him a little closer, when we go home.’

‘Watch who?’ Ronan said as he cantered closer.

‘Vonn.’

‘Vonn. What for?’

‘Because he has a secret,’ Edana said mysteriously.

‘Cywen,’ Queen Alona called from the head of the column. ‘Come. Ride with me.’

Cywen kicked her horse forward, Edana raising her eyebrows.

‘I saw your brother, at the bridge,’ Alona said.

‘I did too.’

‘How . . . how is he? Since that business with his wolven?’

‘Well, sad, of course,’ she said, not knowing how honest she should be. ‘I hear him crying at night, in his chamber.’ She shrugged. ‘They had a bond.’

‘It was a shame,’ Alona said. ‘But there was no other choice. After what that wolven did.’

‘They deserved it,’ Cywen snapped. ‘Rafe drew his sword. I think they would have murdered Corban and Farrell, even Bethan – Storm saved them, did no different to what my da’s hound would have done, yet
she’s
punished, not Rafe or Crain. Ban went to help someone, and then
he’s
punished. It’s not fair,’ she said, then blushed and closed her mouth. They were all thoughts she’d had countless times, but she had never intended to voice them to the Queen of Ardan.

Tull grunted beside them, something like approval in his eyes. Queen Alona frowned at him.

‘And if it had been Corban that had had his arm mauled, or Farrell?’ she said. ‘Your judgement is subjective, Cywen. No, it was the only option. The wolven
should
have been destroyed.’ Alona shrugged. ‘Other than that, has Corban been different, in any other way?’

‘No . . .’ said Cywen. In truth Corban was changing in all kinds of ways. Ever since that man had left – Meical – he had seemed quieter, withdrawn. She had wanted to talk to him about that and tell him what she had overheard, but every time she tried, something stopped her, whether it be circumstance or just a feeling. And at other times he seemed like the old Ban, only more confident, more sure of himself – at least when he was teaching her and Dath their weapons. Without even realizing it, Corban had become their leader, the glue that held them all together.

‘Not really,’ she amended. ‘He misses Storm.’ She shrugged. ‘And he sits his Long Night soon, takes his warrior trial. He is just growing, I suppose.’

Alona nodded slowly, thoughtfully. ‘Tull, how does Corban fare in the Rowan Field?’

‘Corban? He has done well, my lady. Very well. He could be a master with a blade, though . . .’ he frowned, said no more.

‘
Though
what?’ Alona prompted.

‘Nothing, really,’ the warrior said. ‘His style, that is all. It is different. Maybe because Halion is his master.’ The big man shrugged. ‘With a spear he is adequate: not the best, but not the worst. With a bow, well, let’s just say that is not for him.’

‘Thank you,’ Alona said.

Tull was silent a moment, then spoke again. ‘He has grit . . . courage. The deep kind. I’ve not seen it so clear in one so young before.’ He nodded to himself and said no more.

They rode in silence a while, the thud of hooves, the creak and jingle of harness filling the forest.

‘There is a glade ahead, my lady,’ their guide said. ‘A good place to rest the horses and stop for a drink.’

They spilt into the glade, the sunlight suddenly dazzling. Cywen was still at the head of their column, with Alona, Tull and their guide trotting into the centre of the clearing. The rest of them, Edana, Ronan, the other warriors, spread to either side of the Queen, some dismounting.

Cywen looked up, blinking, and shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare. Birdsong filled the glade, bees buzzing lazily around clumps of snowdrop and red campion.

Then the first arrow struck.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

CORBAN

Corban stood by the bridge, staring across the river at the Darkwood.

He missed Storm.

Two nights had passed at Uthandun and not knowing was finally becoming too much for him. Last night he had asked Brina if Craf had news of Storm. She had said only that the wolven was still here, prowling the fringes of the forest.

The drumming of hooves pulled his attention away from the forest, back up towards Uthandun. A group of riders were trotting down the hill, all in the grey cloaks of Ardan, apart from one red-cloaked figure at the front.

Queen Alona rode beside the red-cloak, a huntsman by the look of him, a bow and quiver strapped to his saddle. Tull towered beside them, a huge shield slung across his back. Behind them Corban saw Edana riding beside Cywen.

A score or so warriors of Ardan followed, Ronan first amongst them.

Alona’s eyes hovered on Corban as they crossed the bridge. He smiled at his sister. Ronan nodded to him and then they were riding past, people crossing the bridge standing to one side to give the riders passage. Once on the far side they branched off the giantsway, then the red-cloaked rider took them into the forest.

Taking a deep breath, Corban shouldered a small sack and strode purposefully across the bridge towards the forest, not looking back. But soon something made him turn, and he paused to look back at the bridge, one figure catching his eye. He stayed where he was, the figure getting closer, walking with a distinctive limp.