Valour (27 page)

Corban.

Last night had been so strange, woken in the dead of night by the strangest bunch of companions she had ever witnessed –
a giant, a living, breathing giant walking around Dun Carreg
– and questioned. Questioned about Corban.

She had been scared at first – who wouldn’t be with a giant standing in your kitchen? – but then the silver-haired man had started talking to her. His voice had been so calm.
She had not said much, little more than she had told Nathair during their previous meeting, though some of it she found hard to remember. There had been so many questions from the old man with the
strange yellow eyes.

He had asked about Meical, she remembered that, and she had thought instantly of seeing him sitting in the kitchen, talking to her mam and da, and to Gar.
They
had spoken about Corban as
well. And finally Calidus had asked her for something that had belonged to Corban – an item of clothing, a knife, anything. She had given him Corban’s old forge apron, scarred and
pitted by heat and flame, sweat-stained on the inside. She had found it in her da’s forge when she had been searching for her throwing knives, and for some unexplained reason had brought the
apron home with her.

Calidus had held it, run his fingertips over its entirety, then closed his eyes and started singing, so quietly that it had been little more than a whisper. When he opened his eyes he had
pronounced Corban gone from Ardan, said that he was across the sea, to the north-west. That had scared her more than anything else, even more than the giant staring at her. Calidus was an
Elemental. She shivered at the memory. An Elemental, searching for Corban.

Corban. To her he was just her baby brother. Why were these people so interested in him?

Her thoughts stayed fixed on her brother as she rode Shield away from Brina’s cottage, leading the other horses back to Dun Carreg. The fortress and surrounding land was buzzing with
activity. Owain’s warband was spread between Dun Carreg and the plains south of the giantsway, more of them arriving every day. North of the giantsway Nathair’s forces camped, swollen
first by the arrival of his fleet and then the warband that had ridden in from the east only yesterday. Rows of tents filled all the land between the giantsway and the beach. She scowled as she saw
black-clad figures in Havan, more of the Jehar that had stormed Stonegate the night Dun Carreg had fallen.

The warriors everywhere grew smaller and smaller as she steadily climbed the path to the fortress. Out in the bay a great cluster of ships with Tenebral’s eagle upon them were rowing for
open sea, their sails billowing and filling as they left the bay’s shelter. As she watched, they turned east, becoming specks as they dwindled into the distance, and she wondered where they
were heading. Eventually she clattered over the bridge and through Dun Carreg’s stone-paved streets until she reached the Rowan Field. Drust inspected the mounts she had brought in, grunting
approvingly. He gave particular attention to Hammer, Gar’s stallion, who was also the sire of Shield.

‘You’ve done well, girl,’ the red-haired warrior said. ‘You’ve a good eye for horses.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied without smiling.

He took the reins from her and led the horses away, towards a pile of saddles and tack. ‘Help me with them,’ he called over his shoulder.

She looked around as she worked. The Field was busy, warriors everywhere. She spotted Rafe on the weapons court, sparring with a man bearing the bull of Narvon. Even though he still limped, Rafe
used his height and long reach to good effect, and in short time he had scored a hit to his opponent’s chest. He caught Cywen’s eye as he hobbled from the court and strolled over to
her, grinning.

‘Enjoy watching men sweat?’ he said. ‘Or is it my skills that draw your eye?’

‘I was wondering what you looked like against my brother, when you challenged him to the Court of Swords.’ She had heard about Rafe’s challenge in Dun Carreg’s
feast-hall, how the confrontation had lasted little more than a few heartbeats, Rafe defeated, his blood on Corban’s sword. ‘Apparently it was quite the sight.’

Emotions swept Rafe’s face – too many, too complex to read. ‘I wasn’t ready,’ he said, looking away.

Cheering drifted over from the weapons court and they both turned to look.

Conall was stepping onto the court, a practice sword in his hand. From the far side a figure appeared, flanked by a bald, thick-necked warrior. Cywen recognized the young warrior; he was one of
those who had woken her in the night. He still wore the silver and black of Tenebral.

‘Who is that?’ she asked.

‘He’s Nathair’s first-sword, rode in with a warband yesterday,’ Rafe said. ‘Name’s Veradis, I think. And it looks as if he’s about to get a hiding from
Conall.’

Quickly the court cleared for the two warriors, Cywen and Rafe hurrying over to watch. Conall was smiling, waiting for Veradis as he chose a practice sword from a wicker basket. He did not rush,
testing the weight of a few until he found one that he was happy with. He returned Conall’s smile as he walked to him, then set his feet.

In a burst of speed Conall was on him, rushing forward, striking high and low in a blur of motion.

‘That’s your brother’s trick,’ Rafe whispered in Cywen’s ear, ‘catching people off-guard.’

Cywen heard rather than saw the exchange, the staccato
clack
of wood striking wood. When her eyes caught up, Veradis had retreated a few steps, but Conall had not broken his guard. Conall
attacked again, feinting high then spinning around Veradis and chopping at the man’s ribs. Veradis spun on his heel, sweeping Conall’s attack away and striking at Conall’s head
and chest with two short, solid blows. Conall blocked one and stepped away from the second. They continued like this, neither gaining the upper hand, Conall like a storm-whipped sea, swirling
fluidly around Veradis’ wall of stone, solid, impenetrable. Then, from nowhere, Conall’s blade-tip was at Veradis’ throat, Conall grinning wolfishly. Cywen scowled, wishing for
some reason that Conall had lost.
He needs some of his swagger chopped away.

Veradis returned the smile, nodding down. Conall looked and saw Veradis’ weapon pressing against Conall’s groin.

Cywen smiled; that was one of the kill points that Corban had taught her.

Conall scowled then laughed, one emotion chasing the other as quick as a blink. Veradis stepped away and dipped his head to Conall.

‘Well, that was something to see,’ Rafe breathed. ‘I’ve never seen anyone except Conall’s brother touch wood to him while sparring.’

‘What’s going on today?’ Cywen asked him. ‘It feels different, somehow. Tense.’

‘Have you not heard?’ Rafe said. ‘Queen Rhin has broken out of the Darkwood into Ardan. She is marching on Owain. She is marching here.’

Dawn’s light was seeping through the trees. Corban’s eyes were fixed on Vonn’s back in front of him as they sped through the woods. He was sweating, tunic
clinging to his back. It felt as if they had been running half the night, Camlin and Halion leading them in a twisting route back to their camp. The two warriors did not think their hunters would
attempt to try and track them until the sun had risen, almost certainly not after they had found the torn body of Storm’s victim,
but you could not be too careful,
as Camlin had said.
As exhaustion threatened to claim Corban, his world shrinking to Vonn’s back, to each step, each single drag of air into his lungs, one thought persisted in revolving around his mind.
What
had Vonn dropped in the woods, and risked his life to find?

Gwenith greeted him with anxious eyes as they staggered into their camp; she didn’t look as if she’d slept any more than Corban had. Everyone was awake, horses saddled, the fire
kicked out. His mam handed him and Gar a skin of water. Corban drank thirstily, and soon he was sitting in a saddle, his horse picking its way along a narrow track through thinning woods.

They stopped at highsun beneath the last shade of the woods they had been passing through, an open meadow rolling away before them. Corban chewed on some cold meat as he told Dath and Farrell of
what had happened in the night, of what Storm had done. His thoughts returned to Vonn and he stood and strode to the young warrior sitting close to Halion and Edana.

‘What did you drop?’ Corban asked him.

Vonn looked up at him, appearing confused.

‘Last night in the woods, you dropped something. When you were being chased. What was it?’

Vonn’s expression changed and momentarily his hand twitched up to his cloak. He didn’t respond.

‘It must be important to you, or you’d have left it. That warrior was right behind you.’

Vonn glanced about, saw Halion and Edana looking at him, others as well.

‘It’s a book,’ he said quietly.

‘Why is it so important?’

Vonn said nothing, but looked cornered, somehow, a child with his hand caught in the honey jar.

‘What’re you hiding?’ Dath said loudly.

‘Nothing. It’s no one’s business but mine,’ Vonn snapped, sitting straighter now, his hand resting defensively on something inside his cloak.

‘What is it, Vonn?’ Halion asked now.

Vonn looked at him, then about at the other companions. All attention was on him. He sighed. ‘It is my father’s book. I took it the night Dun Carreg fell. I stole it to spite him
– we’d argued about Bethan.’ His eyes darted to Dath. ‘I was angry with him. It was childish, but I knew he treasured it, so I just took it.’

‘What is this book?’ Brina said.

‘He kept it in a secret room, along with other things he treasured.’

‘I didn’t ask you
where
, I asked you
what
,’ Brina snapped.

‘WHAT,’
Craf squawked from the branches above. Dath jumped.

‘I’m not sure,’ Vonn said, ‘I think it’s old, ancient. I think my da found it in the tunnels beneath Dun Carreg.’

‘Show me,’ Heb said, stepping forwards.

Vonn clutched a hand to his chest, making no move to hand over the book.

‘Go on, Vonn, do as Heb asks,’ said Edana.

All eyes turned to the Princess.
Or is it Queen, now? I suppose it is, as Brenin is dead.
She was speaking more often now, certainly much more than in those first days when they had
sailed away from Dun Carreg.

Slowly, seemingly reluctant, Vonn reached into his cloak, fumbled about and then pulled out a thick, leather-bound book.

Heb took it gingerly, Brina peering over his shoulder. He opened the cover.

‘By Asroth’s teeth,’ Brina said, eyes growing wide.

‘What is it?’ Marrock asked.

‘It’s a book,’ Brina said. ‘When we’ve read it we’ll tell you what’s in it, which is what I think you meant to ask.’

‘Aye, it is,’ Marrock said, looking abashed.

‘We will inspect it, see what we can make of it,’ Heb said more politely. ‘No need to be so rude,’ he said to Brina.

‘Oh, shut up and give me the book. I need a closer look.’

‘You’ll have to do it as we ride,’ Halion said. ‘We’d best move on.’

They rode hard all afternoon and into the evening, an increased sense of tension about them all. They were travelling through open meadows, and more than once had had to change
their course to avoid small hamlets and cultivated fields. Once they had seen people poling coracles on a wide, glistening lake. Corban was not sure if those on the lake had seen them, but it was
likely.

As the sun was sinking, Brina and Heb cantered up either side of him.

‘Heb and I want to talk to you now about the book,’ Brina said.

‘The book?’

‘Yes. The book that we took from Vonn, that he brought with him from Dun Carreg.’

‘Ah. That book.’

‘It is very old, ancient,’ said Heb. ‘Written by the Benothi giants that built Dun Carreg.’

Corban raised an eyebrow at that, his interest rising. ‘And you can read it? You can read giantish?’

‘Of course,’ said Heb, as if Corban had just insulted him.

‘It’s amazing,’ Brina said, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. She leaned closer. ‘It teaches the earth power.’

Corban blinked at her. ‘Teaches the earth power?’

‘Yes,’ she snapped, appearing irritated. ‘The question you asked me, about how we summoned that mist, the night we left Dun Carreg. Heb and I know something of the earth power
– very little, you understand, but enough to do small things.’

Corban looked at them both, wide-eyed, almost falling off his horse.

‘Heb and I have spoken,’ Brina continued, ‘and we’d like to teach you.’

‘Teach me?’

‘Corban, if you repeat what I say one more time, I swear I will use the earth power on you.’

‘Sorry.’

‘So, would you like to learn how to use the earth power?’

‘Would I li—’ He stopped himself. ‘Yes, I would.’
Why me?

‘Now that is more like it,’ Brina said.

Halion called out from up ahead, halting them to make camp.

‘We’ll talk again. Soon,’ said Brina.

Not long after they had stopped and made camp, Corban sat with his mam and Gar, sipping hot flavoursome stew as the small company sat in a ring around a small fire. Halion joined them.