Malice (35 page)

A man stood beside the door, a long spear in his hand. Veradis gripped the hilt of his sword but Nathair walked past the man and through the open doorway. The spearman was Deinon, the Vin Thalun he had taken to Jerolin in chains. The corsair dipped his head to Veradis, who grunted and followed Nathair into the tower.

Torches burned around the room, which was wide and round; crumbling stone and rotted wood were scattered across the floor. A stone stairway wound around the tower wall until it abruptly ended, stars shimmering beyond the jagged outline of the shattered wall.

Three people stood before them. Two he instantly recognized – the thin, grey-bearded face of the Vin Thalun Calidus, and his giant companion, Alcyon. The other one stepped forward. He wore a plain leather cuirass, sharp eyes staring out from a weathered face, all deep lines and brown skin. He extended a hand towards Nathair, a jewelled ring of office glinting in the torchlight.

‘Welcome, Nathair. I am Lykos. I have waited long for this moment.’

Nathair gripped his arm.

‘Lykos. I have come as you asked. I am glad of the treaty between us.’

‘There was a time when it would have been impossible, when no one man could speak for the Vin Thalun,’ Lykos said, voice smooth but with an edge of gravel. Veradis thought of wolves. ‘But now the warlords of the Three Islands have bowed their knee to me. We are no longer a fractured people. We are a force, rather than an annoyance to greater realms.’ He tugged thoughtfully at a braid in his beard, streaked with grey. Iron rings bound in it chinked together. ‘I wanted to meet you, thank you for your part in the treaty. I am sure that without your efforts it would not have come about.’

Nathair dipped his head.

‘And for what else? What other reason are we meeting here, in the dead of night?’ Nathair asked.

‘You do not know?’

‘I think perhaps I do,’ Nathair said quietly, almost a whisper. ‘But I would hear you say it.’

‘So be it.’ Lykos drew a breath. ‘For decades I have known that I would serve you. And I have been preparing the way. You are set apart, Nathair, chosen.’

Nothing differed in Nathair’s expression or bearing, but suddenly Veradis sensed a change, a tension filling the room, setting his skin tingling.

‘Why would you say such a thing?’ Nathair whispered.

‘Because I have dreamed it. And in my dreams I have been told of a coming darkness; but more than that. I have been told of a man who will change the world we tread, someone who will unite the whole of the Banished Lands under one banner. I have been told that man is you, Nathair.’ Suddenly Lykos dropped to his knees.

‘I am at your command, Nathair, and along with me the Three Islands of the Vin Thalun, and a fleet the likes of which the Banished Lands has not witnessed since the coming of the Exiles to these shores.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CORBAN

Corban checked again the list of herbs and plants that Brina had sent him to collect:
goldenrod, heartsease, meadowsweet, poppy, monkshood, elder
. They were all in the sack he had slung over his shoulder.

Keep them separate
, she had warned. Before he had been able to clench his mouth shut he had asked why. Some days Brina would answer half a dozen
whys
before her patience snapped. Other days, like this day, he could tell there would be a sting in the tail of any answer, even for a single
why
.

Because some are for a poultice, and some he needs to drink,
she had snapped
. Now get you gone before the lad dies of waiting
, she’d finished as she held her cottage door open.

‘
GET YOU GONE
,’ Craf the crow had screeched as he left. He really hated that crow.

Now he was trudging back to the cottage, a knot of fear germinating in his belly at the thought of having forgotten something.

‘Goldenrod, heartsease, meadowsweet, poppy, monkshood, elder,’ he recited out loud. Storm cocked her head at him as she trotted through the long grass nearby. She had been stopping frequently to pounce at butterflies or leap around clumps of grass, slowing his return, but he had been quite glad of the distraction.

He and the wolven-cub had hardly left each other’s sides since his return from the hunt, a ten-night gone. The only time he did leave her was during his trips to the Rowan Field. Thannon had insisted.
Let them get used to the idea before she is paraded before them
, he had said.
There’ll be warriors in the Field that were close to those killed or hurt
. When Thannon decided on something it very rarely changed. And anyway, his da was right. Men had died in the Baglun Forest. If it had been one of his kin he might not have been able to think of Storm without distrust.

He bent down, rustled the grass in front of the cub. She crouched, pounced, grabbed his wrist and shook her head, Corban yelping. Her teeth were sharper than his mam’s bone needles. He twisted his hand free, caught some of the fur of her cheek, and tugged it playfully.

Looking up, he saw a thin line of smoke rising from Brina’s cottage, tall alders shielding it. He didn’t want to go back. It was bad enough having to be around Vonn, Evnis’ son, although now that the fever had taken him he didn’t have to put up with his scornful comments every time Corban was in the cottage. Adding Brina’s foul mood to the brew made lingering outside tempting, but he was sure that the longer he delayed, the worse the tongue-lashing would be when he returned.

‘Come on,’ he said resignedly to Storm, setting off again.

Two horses were grazing on the lush grass around the cottage, a man sitting with his back to a wall. He rose as Corban approached and moved in front of the door. It was Evnis’ guard, his nose crooked from when Tull had broken it. His name was Glyn, Corban had learned. Corban tried to move around him, avoiding eye contact as he reached for the door handle, but the warrior blocked him.

‘None may enter.’

‘But, Brina . . .’ stuttered Corban.

‘
None
,’ Glyn snapped, cutting Corban short, poking him hard in the chest with a stubby finger. Corban took a step backwards, looked at the ground, not sure what to do.

Storm made a noise, somewhere between a hiss and a growl.

‘Should put this spear in your pet,’ the warrior muttered, prodding the butt into the wolven-cub’s ribs.

‘Don’t you touch her,’ Corban heard himself snarl. Glyn prodded Storm again, harder. She whimpered, jumped away, snapping. Corban’s hand snaked out and grabbed the spear shaft. Glyn tried to jerk it free but Corban held on with strength he had not known he possessed.

There was a moment’s silence as boy and warrior glared at each other. Then the cottage door opened suddenly. Brina appeared, a larger form behind her.

‘. . . under my feet,’ Brina was saying. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Corban and Glyn, Corban still clutching the warrior’s spear shaft. She poked Glyn with a hard, bony finger. He recoiled as if bitten by a snake.

‘Get out of the way, you oaf,’ she snapped at him, ‘and let my apprentice through.’

Apprentice
. Corban’s eyes widened.

‘He has herbs vital to Vonn’s recovery. I hope that you haven’t hindered him,’ she added with a sharp look. Glyn took another step back.

‘Enough of this,’ Evnis said from behind Brina, emerging into the sunlight.

‘I will leave Glyn here. If there is any change in my son’s condition,
any
, send him at once.’

‘I have told you, I do not want someone
else
littering my cottage. It is overcrowded as it is. And, besides, there is no need, I have someone here that I can send if necessary.’ Brina gestured towards Corban. Evnis looked disdainfully at him.

‘Glyn will stay,’ he said.

‘Well, he will stay
outside
,’ said Brina. She grabbed Corban by the shoulder, dragged him in and slammed the door, Storm just managing to avoid her tail being crushed as she darted through behind.

‘Well?’ Brina said, rounding on Corban. He stared at her blankly a moment, then hurriedly passed her his bag.

Muttering, she turned to a pot suspended over the fire. She emptied the bag’s contents, quickly separating them into two piles. Breaking some up, she began dropping herbs into the bubbling pot. Craf squawked, hopping from foot to foot, beating his wings. ‘
Potion
,’ he muttered.

‘How is it . . .’ Corban said hesitantly, ‘that Craf speaks?’

Brina and the crow looked at him, appearing unnervingly alike for a moment.

‘That is a question I had expected from you some time ago,’ she said.

‘It is one I have thought to ask, many times,’ he admitted.

‘Then why did you not?’

Corban shrugged. ‘It seemed rude.’

Brina threw her head back and laughed, a throaty, unsettling sound. Craf squawked and ruffled his feathers, flapped his wings once. Storm
hissed
and hid behind Corban’s legs.

‘How is it that Craf speaks?’ Brina repeated when she had recovered. ‘When the world was young, things were very different. You know this already, or should do,’ she added, frowning. ‘Before the Scourging there was a harmony, to the land, amongst and between the races: giant, human. There was a
balance
. Elyon set an order into nature, into
us
. To the giants and mankind was given a gift, a responsibility. We were the
overseers
of this world, with a duty to care for it, and all that dwelt in it. You have heard the term
Elemental
, I would guess.’

‘I have, though I do not really understand what it means. Magic, I think.’

‘Magic,’ Brina snorted. ‘
Magic
is a word the ignorant use to explain what they do not understand. An
Elemental
refers to those that have some kind of command – or
authority
is maybe a better word – over the world around them. It is an ability to use the elements: earth, water, fire, air, and
command
them, to some extent. The giants still claim some knowledge of this, though it was not solely their province. Once, when the world was young,
all
were Elementals. It was part of the pact, part of the way of things. Elyon gave us
authority
, so that we could better care for the world in which we were placed.’

‘What? You mean you,
I
could . . .’

‘Yes, that is exactly what I mean. And along with this was the ability to communicate with animals. It was part of the order.’

‘But then,’ Corban said, ‘how is it not so now? It is just a tale, surely.’

Brina shrugged. ‘If it is only a tale, then how is it that you hear Craf speak?’ Her eyebrows beetled as she stared intently at him.

‘I . . . don’t know,’ he said.

Brina snorted.

‘What happened, then?’ he asked, a little grudgingly.

‘You know of the Otherworld?’

‘Aye, though again—’

‘Yes, yes, you are
unclear
of the details,’ she said with a scowl. ‘The Otherworld is the realm of Elyon, and of Asroth. Some say we can see it, at times even visit it, in our dreams. A world of spirit.’

Corban felt a vague tugging, at the back of his mind, a distant memory struggling to break through.

‘As you know, Asroth and his Kadoshim are not
best pleased
with their being confined to the Otherworld. Asroth would like nothing more than to walk the land we tread.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he hates us, Corban; hates all creation. It is the joy, the crowning glory of his enemy, you see. He is too cunning to fight Elyon directly, not again, so he would destroy Elyon’s creation instead. Destroy me, you, all of us. A type of revenge, if you like.’

Corban felt suddenly anxious, as if watched. He looked about the cabin.

‘Before the Scourging the giants were different,’ Brina continued. ‘They were not so warlike, more inquisitive, but still the usual happened.’ She twirled a hand. ‘Greed, corruption, jealousy, the thirst for
power
, as always. The giants made things, great things, from a star that fell from the sky. Somehow the things that they forged from it – a spear, a torc, a cauldron, other things – all were somehow linked to the Otherworld. Some amongst the giants, tempted, swayed by Asroth, I don’t doubt, began to explore this link. Some kind of
doorway
was made, between our world of flesh and the Otherworld, the world of spirit.
That
was when Elyon stepped in, decided enough was enough, I suppose. And you most certainly
do
know the rest: the Scourging of fire and water, where the world was changed – giants, mankind, virtually destroyed, our ancestors fleeing, being washed up on the shores of the Isle of Summer . . .’

She ran a finger through Craf’s feathers, smiling sadly at Corban. ‘So, you see, once all animals spoke, all people were Elementals and lived in balance with this world. Much has been lost. What we have now is but a pale reflection, a fragment – and even that is fading with the passing of time.’ She sniffed. ‘That is the way of the world, I suppose. No point fighting it.’