Authors: John Gwynne
Lykos leaped from the boat into the foaming surf and waded to shore. He stood upon a long strip of beach, a wide river flowing out into the sea behind him. On the horizon he
could see a dark strip of forest.
Tenebral, it is good to see you again.
He had been away from here far too long. This place was too important to his plans.
Can a god read my mind? Even a fallen one? I hope not, even though he can speak into it.
His hand reached inside his cloak, fingertips touching his gift from Calidus.
Calidus had given it to him at Dun Carreg. ‘Help Jael take the realm of Isiltir for his own, then you must return to Tenebral. Fidele cannot be left unwatched. She is changeable, and
Tenebral is important. She will need to be steered. Use diplomacy if you can, but if all else fails, use this.’ Calidus had given him a box, in it something wrapped in linen, no bigger than
his thumb.
It had been good to return to the Three Islands, to Panos, Nerin and Pelset, and see that old oaths were renewed, but he had taken too long in his visiting, he knew. It was the eve of winter
now. He should have been back sooner.
On the beach still reared the bones of ships, hulls half-fitted with long strakes of oak supported by timber scaffolding.
He frowned.
They should be finished, ready for the ocean.
He looked about, saw Alazon the old shipwright striding towards him with his rolling gait. He didn’t look happy. Behind him, at the beach’s edge, stood a knot of warriors. Men of
Tenebral, dressed in leather kilts and black cuirasses embossed with a white eagle. They started making their way towards him.
Something’s wrong.
Deinon and his other shieldmen splashed ashore behind him. He heard Deinon draw his sword.
‘Put it away,’ Lykos said.
Alazon drew close. ‘They have found the fighting pits, have slain men, taken prisoners, freed our slaves,’ Alazon blurted. That was all he had a chance to say before the warriors of
Tenebral reached them.
‘Lykos of the Vin Thalun,’ one of them said.
‘Aye, you know I am.’
‘You will come with us. The Lady Fidele orders your presence.’
‘Of course. I’d like that.’ He grinned. ‘We’ve got a lot to talk about.’
Rafe lunged at him, but, surprised as Corban was, he managed to step to the side and club Rafe with the pommel of his sword.
Dath and Farrell dragged Rafe to his feet.
‘What’s going on?’ Baird said as he rode close.
‘We know him,’ Corban said. ‘From home.’
It felt strange to say those words, to hear them spoken aloud.
‘Not a friend?’ Baird said.
‘No.’ Corban remembered the night Dun Carreg had fallen, how Rafe and his da, Helfach, had attacked him, separated him from his own da as he fought Nathair’s eagle-guard.
‘Your wolven killed my da,’ Rafe said.
‘She did,’ Corban said. ‘And I am glad.’
‘Let’s kill him,’ Dath said.
‘No.’ Corban said it, but it was echoed by Farrell. ‘We’ll take him to Halion and Edana. I think they’ll have much to talk to him about.’
Edana’s tent was simply furnished – a table, a few chairs, a curtain to separate her sleeping area. She just stared at Rafe as Corban led him before her, his hands
still bound. Halion stood to one side of her, Marrock and Vonn to the other. Fech sat on the back of a chair, his head cocked to one side.
Dath and Farrell filed silently in. They had not told anyone else, just marched straight to Edana’s tent. Corban heard the tent flap rustle, saw Coralen slip inside.
Rafe looked nervous, his eyes darting from one person to the next.
‘How is it that you are here?’ Edana said to him coldly.
Rafe looked at the ground.
‘Answer your Queen,’ Vonn said.
Rafe’s head snapped up at Vonn’s voice. ‘She’s not my Queen. Evnis rules in Ardan now. That’s right, Evnis – your da. It was him that told me to come,’
he said, staring hard at Vonn. ‘He’ll be pleased to know you’re alive – he tore Dun Carreg apart looking for you. And he’ll be angry as hell to know you’re
fighting against Rhin, and him.’
‘My father is a traitor and a murderer,’ Vonn said. ‘He is
dead
to me.’ Vonn’s face turned a darker shade.
Rafe shrugged. ‘Have it your way.’
How does he really feel about his da? Can he just cut him off, be his enemy? I don’t think I could ever have done that to my da, but then, my da wasn’t Evnis.
‘You haven’t answered the question,’ Corban said. ‘Why did Evnis send you here?’
‘I suppose because they were hunting you, and Evnis wanted someone with them who would recognize you. All of you, but Corban most of all.’
Evnis.
Corban felt a pulse of anger at the name. ‘They?’ Edana asked.
‘Nathair. Rhin.’
What do Nathair and Rhin want with me?
Edana took a deep breath and sipped from a cup. Corban didn’t think it was water. This ghost from the past was unsettling her, too.
‘Tell me of what has happened in Ardan, since . . .’ she trailed off.
‘Since you turned traitor and helped Owain take Dun Carreg,’ Marrock said, his voice cold as frost-touched iron.
‘Why should I?’ Rafe said.
‘Because we’ll kill you if you don’t,’ Marrock said. ‘Painfully.’ Corban believed him.
It seemed that Rafe did, too, because he began to talk.
Corban stood in shock as he listened to the tale of Owain’s defeat and Rhin’s victory. He had known, of course, that Rhin had conquered Owain and ruled Ardan, because it was
Rhin’s warband they were fighting now. But to hear it told, to hear the details, it brought it home, somehow: the depth of scheming and planning, the cold malice that had fed Rhin’s
ambitions.
‘And you’ll all taste soon enough what Rhin is like in war,’ Rafe said. ‘You won’t be sitting around a campfire singing, then.’
‘If you believe that, why were you running?’ Edana said. ‘You were caught in the hills, trying to get back to Cambren.’
Rafe shrugged. ‘That raid of yours, the other night, it reminded me of how my da died.’ He looked to Corban. ‘Didn’t like that much. Just wanted to get away.’
‘If Rhin is so cunning in battle, why has she not been victorious today?’ Marrock said.
‘Because she’s not here. Her battlechief’s leading. She’s off in Cambren somewhere, with Nathair. A fortress – Dun Van something.’
‘Dun Vaner, her capital.’
‘That’s right. I imagine she and Conall will be back soon enough. She wouldn’t want to miss the fall of Domhain.’
‘Conall?’ Halion and Coralen said together.
‘That’s right. Conall’s her first-sword now. He challenged and beat Morcant the night of the battle with Owain. I imagine he’ll be pleased to see you.’
‘Conall’s dead,’ Halion said, the colour draining from his face. ‘He fell.’ He looked to Marrock. ‘You said he fell, from Stonegate with Cywen.’
‘They did. I saw it clearly,’ Marrock said.
‘Aye, they did fall; I saw their bruises,’ Rafe said. He looked around at the group, a vicious smile creeping across his face at their stunned expressions. ‘Did you not know?
Conall and Cywen are
alive
.’’
Corban just stared at Rafe.
Cywen’s alive.
The words rang around his head, echoing, growing louder, filling his senses. He felt unsteady and reached out a hand, supporting himself
on a tent pole.
‘Cywen’s alive.’ His voice, strangely detached.
‘She was, the last I saw her, half a ten-night gone.’
‘What do you mean? You’re lying. Dun Carreg is moons from here.’
‘She’s not in Dun Carreg, is she? She’s the other side of those mountains, going north with Nathair and Rhin.’
‘And Conall’s with them?’ Halion spoke now, looking much like Corban felt.
‘Why?’ Corban said. ‘Why would Cywen be Nathair and Rhin’s prisoner? She’s of no consequence to them.’
‘I don’t know.’ Rafe shrugged.
Corban grabbed Rafe and spun him round, slammed his back against a tent pole. ‘You’re lying.’
‘I’m not,’ Rafe said, his smirk gone, fear in his eyes. ‘Why would I lie?’
‘As a last spite from you, when you can do nothing else.’
‘I swear, she’s alive, and Conall. Ask anyone.’
‘I will,’ Edana said. ‘And if you are lying I shall let Corban feed you to Storm.’
Corban walked through the camp, avoiding the celebrations.
Coralen had questioned a handful of prisoners: a mixture of people, some warriors, others tradesmen, smiths, tanners, a few women. All had given similar information, that a girl, a captive, had
travelled from Ardan with Rhin’s warband. Each description sounded like Cywen, dark haired, fiery, though none had known her name. It was easier still with Conall – all had known his
name, told of how he had bested Morcant.
Corban felt sick. Cywen was alive, and he had left her, run away. Abandoned her. How must she have felt. Tears stung his eyes. Then he smiled.
Cywen’s alive.
He reached their part of the camp, saw some of his friends around the fire – Brina with Craf perched on her knee, Camlin and Ventos sharing a skin. Then he spotted who he was looking for.
His mam, sat with Gar. They were talking quietly, smiling. He stood in the shadows and watched them, not wanting to break this moment. Then his mam looked up and saw him. Her smile withered as he
stepped out of the darkness and she saw his expression.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked him.
‘It cannot be. Tell me again.’
‘Mam, I’ve told you twice already.’
‘My poor Cywen – alone through all of this.’ She started to sob, trying not to. Gar squeezed her shoulder and she turned and pummelled his chest. ‘You said you’d go
back, that you’d go back and get her!’
Gar let her. ‘But she was dead,’ he said.
‘I’m going to go and find her,’ Corban said. ‘Bring her back.’
‘Ban, you can’t,’ Gar said.
‘Yes, he can,’ Gwenith said, standing and putting her arm around Corban’s shoulder. ‘We can. I’m going with him.’
Gar sighed, holding back his objections as he looked from one to the other.
‘I’ll go and pack,’ he said.
Corban stepped into Edana’s tent. Rafe was gone now; only Marrock, Vonn and Halion remained with Edana.
‘Quite a night,’ Edana said to him with a sorrowful smile.
‘Yes. I have come to ask you something.’
Edana studied him. ‘You mean to go after her.’
‘I wish to.’ Corban nodded. ‘But I have sworn an oath to protect you. I did not take that oath lightly . . .’
‘I know you didn’t,’ Edana said, ‘and you have already fulfilled it a hundred times over. But Cywen is alive, and your heart breaks for her. I can see it in your
eyes.’
She stepped around the table and took his hand. ‘Go. I give you permission.’
‘But the battle, the war . . .’
‘Is almost won,’ Edana said. ‘You saw today – did more than see, you played a great part. The spirit of Rhin’s warband is broken, nearly half of their warriors
dead. Tomorrow we will end this.’
‘You don’t mind?’
‘No, I don’t mind. I will worry for you, but you must go. Cywen is part of us, is she not? She is like family to me. As are you. Go and get her, Corban. And hurry back.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, his voice cracking.
‘I wish I could come with you, that we all could go. I know we were running for our lives, but there was something about our journey, living day to day. Here it is just politicking: I have
to be so careful of every word I say.’ She sighed. ‘Now, let’s see what I can do to help you.’
It was still dark as Corban climbed into a saddle. He should have been tired, exhausted, but an energy coursed through him, giving him strength. His mam and Gar sat on horses
beside him, and Coralen just in front.
Edana had taken Corban to Rath, and he had provided horses and provisions, and also Coralen as a guide to lead them north. She had not complained about the task, though she had been quiet, none
of her sharp comments forthcoming. She looked thoughtful.
Perhaps it is the possibility of seeing Conall.
‘Ready?’ she asked them.
‘Corban nodded.
‘Best get on, then.’
They set off at a slow walk as the edge of dawn was turning the land a uniform grey.
‘Wait,’ a voice called and Corban turned to see Edana appear, figures behind her. Some led horses. Dath and Farrell, Brina riding at their head. A squawk drifted down from above.
‘You’ll only go and get yourself killed without us,’ Brina said. ‘Well, without me.’
‘Thought you might need some protecting,’ Farrell said, looking at Coralen. She rolled her eyes.
‘It’s not right,’ Dath said to Corban, ‘you going off into the wild without us.’
‘I won’t say I’m not glad, but what about Edana?’ Corban said.
‘I am quite safe here,’ Edana said. ‘I have Halion and Marrock, Camlin and Vonn.’
Camlin stepped over to Corban and offered his arm. Corban gripped it.
‘Look after yourself,’ Camlin said. ‘I would come, but I cannot leave Edana. I’ll look forward to seeing Cywen, though, when you bring her back. Always knew how to get
herself into a scrape, that girl.’