Winterbirth (72 page)

'Orisian,' he said. 'My Thane. My sword, and my life, are yours.'

THE
NA'KYRIM
HAD been upon the Breaking Stone for a full night. Two White Owl warriors sat upon grassy hummocks, watching him. Through their vigil they would neither eat nor sleep nor speak; they would simply wait for the Stone to break the man. They had watched others meet the same end. It seldom took a long time. A mere body could not resist the strength of this boulder, this ancient cage of souls.

Waterskins lay by their sides, along with the fur cloaks they had needed in the coldest depths of the night. Their bows and spears rested against their shoulders. They had barely moved all through the long hours of darkness. The man on the Stone had stirred only briefly in the night, groaning despite the gag that remained in his mouth.

Grey clouds had mustered to stifle the rising sun. The wind fell away. The treetops grew still and a heavy silence descended. The man's blood dried in crusted black rivulets where it had run down from the wounds in his wrists. His head hung forwards. He had not moved now for many hours, but still the Kyrinin watched, their eyes caught upon the hook of his naked form. He looked half-dead already.

A buzzard drifted across the sky. It circled, slipping lower and lower by degrees. At length, it glided in towards the Breaking Stone. One of the watchers stretched a leg out and took his bow in his hand. It was not time for the eaters of the dead yet. The bird gave a couple of flaps with its broad wings and lifted itself upwards again. It circled a few times more and then headed out over the wide expanse of
Antyryn
Hyr,
searching for unguarded prey.

Time passed. The
na'kyrim
moaned but did not wake.

The day moved sluggishly towards night. The grey light faded until the trees and stones lost their shape and detail. Somewhere far away, an owl was calling. It was answered by another, still more distant, and their duet persisted for long minutes. The clouds began to part and through each break in them, starlight shone. The part-moon appeared, spreading a white glow around itself.

The Breaking Stone was bathed in colourless light. The watching Kyrinin saw that the man on the Stone had raised his head. His eyes were unfocused, as if his gaze was fixed upon something far beyond them.

A convulsion ran through his chest and upper body, pulling his arms against the stakes that pinned them.

His head fell forwards again. The watchers unfolded their fur capes, spread them over their shoulders and waited.

In the coldest hour before dawn, the hour when the world was as close to death as it came, the
na'kyrim
began to weep. With their night-tuned sight, the Kyrinin could see the tears coursing down his face, the feverish tremors shivering through his frame. Spittle was foaming around the cloth-wrapped stone that blocked his mouth. The White Owls glanced at one another. It would not be long now.

Yet when the muted, half-hearted daybreak came, the
na'kyrim
still lived. The flow of tears had stopped. He regarded his Kyrinin guards, his eyes bleak and despairing. The White Owls returned his gaze impassively, unflinching.

By the time the day had turned again, falling back towards night, the
na'kyrim
had lived longer than any victim of the Breaking Stone in many years. The clouds scattered in the evening and an orange-yellow light fell upon the great boulder and its burden. Death came stalking across the grass, and breathed upon the
na'kyrim.
Air rattled in his clotted lungs, the muscles in his impaled arms slackened, his head lolled loosely. The two Kyrinin rose and stepped forwards to witness the end.

But the end that was coming was not what they thought. The rattle in the
na'kyrim's
chest stilled. An immense silence fell, and with it the darkness. Tears once more began to fall, but they were of blood, not water. The gaunt head was slowly raised, as if struggling against some awful weight. As the sun slipped away and shadows massed all around, the
na'kyrim
opened his bloody eyes and fixed the Kyrinin with a gaze that spoke no longer of despair, but of a terrible, revelatory horror.

From the balcony on the west face of Highfast, Cerys and Amonyn could see the peaks of the Karkyre Mountains starkly silhouetted by the last vestiges of the fire-red dusk. They stood together, wrapped in a single woollen blanket, snow swirling lightly about them. The heat that Amonyn had woven out of the Shared warded both of them against the elements. It was the faltering of that heat, the sudden intrusion of the winter's biting chill, that warned Cerys. In the next moment she had the lurching sense of the world slipping away from her and but for Amonyn's strong arms holding her up she might have fallen.

'Ah,' she breathed as she leaned against him. 'What was that?'

'Something . . . someone . . . changed,' he whispered, and she could hear the sudden strain in his voice.

Tiny tears were beading at the corners of his eyes. 'Such suffering. Such . . . wonder.'

'Elect,' someone was calling from the chamber within. 'Elect, the Dreamer . . .' The man's voice was filled with urgency, with fear. 'The Dreamer . . . weeps.'

In a bedchamber high in the Tower of Thrones , Yvane the
na'kyrim
woke from sleep with a piercing scream. The crisp white sheets fell from her as she jerked upright, her face slick with sweat. For long moments she sat thus, her hands clawing at the bedclothes. Breath would not come to her and she gasped for air.

The door burst open and a guard rushed in: one of Taim's men, posted outside despite her protestations.

He came to the side of the bed. She turned and stared at him, uncomprehending, still lost in black nightmare.

'I dreamed of darkness,' she said in a cracking, enfeebled voice. 'A man. A terrible, broken man, with nothing but rage in his heart.'

To be continued . . .

Acknowledgements

I AM VERY grateful for the contribution others have made to the creation and publication of this book.

Those I want to thank include:

My agent Sacha Elliot, without whose enthusiasm this might never have happened, and her colleagues Anne Dewe and Tina Betts;

Tim Holman, Darren Nash and Gabriella Nemeth at Orbit, all of whom have made the book better than it would otherwise have been, and Chartwell Illustrators for providing the maps; Steve Griffin and Criana Connal, for sharing the idea that being a writer is a worthwhile ambition; My parents, to acknowledge whose contribution in full would need more pages than are available; And Fleur, who makes no complaint at having to share me with a computer.

BRIAN RUCKLEY was born and raised in Scotland. After studying at Edinburgh and Stirling Universities, he worked for a series of organizations dealing with environmental, nature conservation, and youth development issues. He lives in Edinburgh. Find out more about him at www.brianruckley.com [http://www.brianruckley.com].

The First Age

Began when the Gods made the world and put the One Race in it to inhabit it.

Ended when the One Race rose up against the Gods and was destroyed.

The Second Age

Began when the Gods made the Five Races: Huanin, Kyrinin, Whreinin, Saolin and Anain.

The Huanin and Kyrinin made war upon the Whreinin and destroyed that race, and were thereafter named the Tainted Races for their sin, and forfeited the love of the Gods.

Ended when the Gods departed from the world.

The Third Age

Began with the absence of the Gods, and with chaos.

Year

280
The Adravane and Aygll Kingships arose

398
Marain the Stonemason began the construction of Highfast, at the behest of the Aygll King

451
The Alsire Kingship arose, and the era of the Three Kingships began

775
The three Huanin Kingships united against the Kyrinin clans and the War of the Tainted began

787
Tarcene, the Aygll King, was bound, his mind enslaved, by the
na'kyrim
Orlane; his own daughter, in despair, killed him

788
Tane, the Kyrinin's Shining City, was captured by the Huanin armies, the Deep Rove was raised by the Anain, and the War of the Tainted ended

792
Morvain's Revolt, a rising against the faltering Aygll Kingship, culminated in a failed siege of Highfast

793
The last Aygll monarch--Lerr, the Boy King--was slain at In'Vay, and the era of the Three Kingships ended; Aygll lands descended into chaos and the Storm Years began

847
The Bloods--Kilkry, Haig, Gyre, Ayth and Taral--were founded in Aygll lands, and Kulkain oc Kilkry became the first Thane of Thanes; the end of the Storm Years

849
Kulkain oc Kilkry bade Lorryn the
na'kyrim
establish at Highfast a library for the preservation of learning and knowledge

852
The last Alsire King was slain, and the first King of the Dornach line took his throne in Evaness

922
The Black Road heresy arose in Kilvale; Amanath the Fisherwoman, its originator, was executed and the creed outlawed by the Bloods

939
Avann oc Gyre-Kilkry, Thane of the Gyre Blood, adopted the creed of the Black Road

940
Civil war broke out amongst the Kilkry Bloods, between the adherents of the Black Road and those opposed to the creed

942
Following their defeat in battle at Kan Avor, the Gyre Blood and all adherents of the Black Road were exiled beyond the Vale of Stones, and founded there the Bloods of the Black Road: Gyre, Horin, Gaven, Wyn and Fane

945
The Lore and Battle Inkalls were founded by the Bloods of the Black Road

948
The last attempt by the Kilkry Bloods to crush the fledgling Bloods of the Black Road in the north ended in failure; their armies retired south of the Vale of Stones and the fortification of Tanwrye began

959
The Hunt Inkall was founded by the Bloods of the Black Road

973
The Lannis Blood was founded, in reward for Sirian Lannis dar Kilkry's defeat of the invading forces of the Black Road at Kolglas

997
Haig replaced Kilkry as first amongst the True Bloods

1052
The Dargannan Blood was founded

1069
The Lannis-Haig Blood defeated Horin-Gyre in the Battle of the Stone Vale, near Tanwrye

1070
Tavan oc Lannis-Haig died, and his son Croesan succeeded him as Thane of the Lannis Blood

1097
The Lannis-Haig Blood was afflicted by the Heart Fever, which killed almost one in six

1102
The Dargannan Blood rebelled against the authority of Haig, and Gryvan oc Haig, Thane of Thanes, summoned the armies of the True Bloods to march against them