Wrath (The Faithful and the Fallen Book 4)

  ‘What work, though? I don’t understand. I thought we’d won and could just go home, but the battle is near a ten-night gone, now. What’s she waiting for?’

  ‘She has to make sure that all that fighting, and all the lives given – well, that they weren’t given in vain. She’s doing what she can to make sure that the peace we’ve fought for lasts.’

  Meg nodded at that, thoughtful.

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ she said eventually.

  She was quiet a while longer. Camlin watched Craf sharpen his talons on bark and groom his feathers with his beak. One of his wings was bound with a splint and bandage.

  Poor thing, Camlin thought. And he’s been down about Brina and Corban.

  Camlin saw a worm wriggling in the earth and pulled it out, tossing it in the air to Craf, who swallowed it with a snap of his beak.

  ‘Thank you,’ the bird muttered.

  ‘And when we get home,’ Meg continued, ‘what happens then?’

  Camlin rubbed his chin. He’d been thinking a lot about that one, himself.

  The honest answer was that he didn’t really know.

  Not sure what use an old brigand like me would be, now.

  He looked down at Meg, saw a little wrinkle of worry in her brow.

  ‘Whatever happens, I’ve been thinking I’m going to need me an apprentice. Someone that can track, that’s good with a bow, a spear, a sword . . .’

  Meg started to smile, a mischievous twist of her lips.

  ‘So I’m thinking of putting the word out, seeing if anyone wants a trial . . . Ouch,’ he said, as Meg kicked him in the shin again, with a lot more conviction this time.

  ‘You want the job, then?’ Camlin said, laughing and rubbing his leg.

  ‘I do,’ Meg replied. ‘Think I’m just the one for it. The only one.’

  ‘Well, I’ll give you a trial run, then.’

  She pulled a face at him.

  Footsteps sounded and Camlin looked up to see Edana striding towards him, wrapped in a grey cloak, fur-trimmed in ermine. She still wore her shirt of mail, but it had been cleaned of blood and grime and polished with sand. It gleamed as she walked. Brogan No-Neck walked one side of her, Vonn the other, though he was pale, still, a pinched look to his face.

  Pain will do that, and he has lost a hand.

  Bandages were wrapped around the stump of Vonn’s wrist. His hand had been mangled during the battle, fingers lost, bones shattered, an irreparable wound. Cywen and the others at the hospice had tried to save the hand but rot had set in and the only way to save his arm, and maybe his life, was to take his hand.

  ‘There you are,’ Edana said to Camlin. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you.’

  Camlin felt a knife-twist of grief in his gut as they approached. It still seemed strange to see Edana without Halion at her side – her first-sword, a constant guardian.

  Most likely won’t ever get used to it.

  Conall, on the other hand, had survived. Rafe’s blow had wounded but not killed, and Halion’s sacrifice had saved Conall’s life. He had spent most of the last ten-night in the hospice, but had shuffled out yesterday. Camlin had seen him only briefly, but he looked like a different man, broken-hearted.

  Camlin rose and bowed as Edana drew near. Not a perfect bow, but for a Darkwood brigand Camlin thought it wasn’t too bad.

  ‘Two things,’ Edana said. ‘Firstly, I have a message for you, Craf. Cywen says that she wants to see you at the hospice. Apparently she has been telling you for the last two days that your wing should be good for you to fly, now, and so she needs to take off your splint.’

  ‘What?’ Camlin blurted.

  Craf looked about as guilty as it was possible for a crow to look.

  ‘So I’ve been carrying you around for two days when you could have been flying,’ Camlin said.

  Craf looked the other way, as if he’d heard something more interesting elsewhere.

  ‘Why, Craf?’ Camlin asked him sternly. ‘Why have you done this to me?’

  ‘Because then it will be, Craf fly here, Craf fly there. Craf tired.’

  ‘You are more cunning than a weasel,’ Camlin said, shaking his head.

  ‘Sorry,’ Craf muttered, though he didn’t look sorry.

  Camlin looked up to see everyone laughing, even Vonn.

  ‘If any one of you ever tells another soul about this . . .’

  More laughter. Even Craf started laughing, a croaking stutter.

  I’m never going to live this down.

  ‘You said two things, my Queen?’ Camlin said to Edana, trying to change the subject.

  ‘Yes. I almost forgot. I need you with me. We’ve a meeting to attend, and I’m almost late.’

  ‘And you want me to come with you?’

  ‘Well, of course. Since when does a queen not attend a council with her counsellor?’

  ‘Counsellor? Me? Sure you’d not be better off with Craf in that role?’

  ‘He’s got a point,’ Vonn and No-Neck said together. More laughter.

  ‘Craf is more than welcome to come, but, yes, I am quite content that you are my counsellor, though you are much more than that.’ Edana laughed at the face he pulled. Not embarrassed this time, just surprised.

  Counsellor. Well, there’s a turn-up.

  ‘Well, I don’t really know what to think of that, my Queen.’

  Edana frowned a little, then, staring harder at him. ‘You’re not thinking of leaving me, are you, Camlin?’

  Camlin opened his mouth to answer, but wasn’t quite sure what to say.

  ‘He thought you didn’t need him no more,’ Meg said. ‘Didn’t think you’d have much use for the likes of him.’

  Camlin scowled at Meg.

  Thanks, you little traitor, you.

  ‘Camlin, are you mad?’ Edana gasped. ‘I will always have need of you. You’re not just a talented bowman, Camlin. You’ve guided me across realms, through mountain and forest, hill and vale, saved my life more times than I can remember.’

  ‘Aye, but you’re not on the run any more, and I doubt you ever will be again.’

  ‘Well, I hope not, but who knows what the future holds? Regardless, I will always want you by my side, or close enough to call, at least. Your talents are many. You are a gem, Camlin.’ She smiled at him. ‘Just in need of a little polishing, that is all. And above and beyond all that, you are my friend, whom I trust, and that is rarer than gold.’

  Never in all my long life has anyone said such a thing to me. Just goes to show – sometimes it takes someone else to bring out the best in a man.

  ‘So will you accompany me to the great chamber, to discuss the future of the Banished Lands with Ben-Elim, giants, other kings, queens, lords and ladies?’

  ‘I will,’ Camlin said, a broad smile upon his face. ‘My Queen.’

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SEVEN

  CORBAN

  Corban stood before a cairn, alone amidst an ocean of similar slate-grey islands. Even Storm kept her distance, a prowling guardian, somehow knowing that he was doing a solitary thing. The clouds were bloated, a light rain falling, and wind tugged at Corban’s bearskin cloak. He was dressed in his war gear, his shirt of mail, the links shattered by Calidus’ sword thrust repaired, his wolven-head torc around his neck, arm-ring tight about his bicep, and Coralen had rewoven his warrior braid, thick, as the giants wore them.

  ‘I miss you, Gar,’ he said to the cairn. ‘So very much. I see you, every day, in the corner of my eye, just for a moment, calling me to the sword dance, teaching me, watching over me, guarding my back, as you did all my life. All my life. And I hear your voice, a whisper in my ear. Your last words to me in Drassil’s hall. And I can still feel your hand in mine, squeezing.’ He was crying now, the tears flowing freely. ‘I will earn your sacrifice, I swear it, friend of friends. Every day. And I shall never forget you. I am going to build a legacy that you and Brina would be proud of. Your skill of arms. Brina’s healing art. Of your love, friendshi
p, courage and loyalty. The gifts you’ve given me will never be forgotten.’

  He took out a slip of linen from his cloak then, and unfolded it. Lifted a purple flower to his lips, kissed it, and then placed the flower upon Gar’s cairn.

  One more lingering moment as he turned, looking at the field of the dead. Faces swam before his face: Halion, Krelis, Wulf, Javed, Maquin, so many, many more.

  ‘You will all be remembered, your courage and sacrifice. I will never forget.’

  And then he strode away, his cloak billowing and snapping in the wind. Storm padded close to him then.

  He walked through the gates of Drassil into a place seething with activity. Horses saddled, wains packed and harnessed. Cywen sat a horse at the head of the wains, guarding over her herbs. He saw Coralen checking her saddle girth, Dath and Kulla already mounted, Farrell standing with the reins of his own mount and also of Shield’s in his hand, the clatter of hooves as more riders trotted down flag-stoned streets from the paddocks. Amongst them there were Jehar, Freedmen, the remnant of Wulf’s axe-throwers and their kin, including Hild and Swain and Sif, though Wulf was no longer with them – another brave man who had fallen during the battle.

  Corban paused and stood in the shadow of the gate-arch a moment, unseen, watching. His eyes drifted up and beyond the courtyard, to the trunk of Drassil’s great tree, rising high above them all, towering over the great hall. He could see the domed curve of the hall’s walls, massive holes punched in it where Asroth and his host had burst forth into the Banished Lands.

  And now he is entombed within there forever. Alive or dead? We know not. And Meical alongside him.

  He sighed as he thought of the Ben-Elim, remembered the pain he had felt at Meical’s betrayal.

  But you came back to us, in the end. Were a true friend and stood for us, even against your own kin, for which I thank you. I wish that we could have spoken, and that we could have parted as friends.

  Corban strode to Farrell and the others, more familiar faces standing with them: Edana, Camlin, Vonn and Conall, the King of Domhain. Giants loomed behind them – Ethlinn, Balur One-Eye and Varan.

  ‘Well met, Bright Star,’ Ethlinn said, bowing her head to him.

  ‘There really is no need to call me that,’ Corban said.

  ‘The council meeting has just finished,’ Ethlinn said. ‘You did not come. The Ben-Elim are asking for you.’

  Corban shrugged. ‘Are you happy with the outcome?’

  Ethlinn nodded slowly. ‘We have reached an agreement,’ she said. ‘Made a pact. Drassil we will share. It is our ancient home, and we giants will return here, but the Ben-Elim wish to dwell here, also. Because of Asroth and Meical.’

  ‘That is logical,’ Corban said.

  ‘I agree. We are not unreasonable, so we will share Drassil with the Ben-Elim. And together we shall fight the Kadoshim. Hunt the survivors down and destroy them.’

  ‘The Ben-Elim,’ Varan said. ‘They have plans for you, Bright Star.’

  Corban raised an eyebrow.

  ‘The title battlechief has been mentioned.’

  ‘I will hunt Kadoshim,’ Corban said. ‘But not for them, not on their terms.’

  Balur One-Eye smiled at him.

  ‘Whatever the future holds,’ Ethlinn said, ‘there will always be friendship between us. Between you and I, between your kin and mine.’ She offered her arm to Corban then, and he took it in the warrior grip.

  ‘You will be a fine queen, Ethlinn: beautiful, fierce and wise.’

  Balur rumbled approvingly and Ethlinn smiled. ‘Ah, but you have a honeyed tongue, Bright Star.’

  ‘The truth is easy to say,’ Corban smiled. ‘Wherever I go, I will carry you in my heart, my giant friends. And if you have need, I will be there.’

  ‘And we for you, Bright Star,’ Balur rumbled. ‘It was you that sowed the seed of reconciliation amongst us. You that united so many that in other times would have been enemies. If you need us, you have only to say the word.’

  Edana stepped forwards.

  ‘I got your message,’ she said. ‘You’re really doing it, then?’

  ‘Aye. I will build a new home from the ashes of Gramm’s hold. A place of learning. Skill at arms, and the healer’s art,’ Corban said, feeling a thrill of excitement course through him at the thought of it. He’d looked around at the disparate peoples that had gathered into a warband to face Calidus and the Kadoshim, and he’d thought what a tragedy it would be for so much skill, and so many unique styles of fighting, to just fragment and disappear. But most of all it was for Gar and Brina. A way of remembering them. Of honouring them.

  ‘It feels right,’ Corban shrugged.

  ‘You’ve always had good judgement,’ Edana said.

  ‘And you? You are confident in what has been agreed here?’

  ‘I am,’ Edana said. ‘It is a time of change, but I believe it is for the better. And there are Kadoshim still roaming free in our world, of course, so I am happy to be a part of the hunt for them.’

  ‘As am I,’ Conall said. ‘Don’t like the thought of those leathery-winged bastards out there.’ He shivered.

  ‘Neither do I,’ Corban said.

  ‘Not so sure about the white-winged ones, either,’ Conall said. ‘They’ve good faces for a game of knuckle-bones; you’d never know if they were bluffing.’

  Corban couldn’t keep a smile from his face at that.

  ‘But I must go home first,’ Edana continued, ‘and rebuild the west. Ardan and Domhain’s rulers have been absent too long, and Narvon and Cambren are without leadership altogether.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I’ve suggested a solution,’ Conall said, ‘which I think makes sense on more than one level. Edana should marry me. Then we don’t need to argue and haggle and squawk over Cambren and Narvon. We’ll just have the lot and be done with it. And she’s got a fine and kissable pair of lips, I have to confess to noticing.’ He grinned at the shocked faces around him, especially Corban, Dath and Farrell’s.

  Vonn pulled a face and Edana just raised her eyebrows.

  She stepped forwards and kissed Corban on the cheek, and suddenly Corban was acutely aware of Coralen’s eyes watching him.

  ‘You’ve come a long way since you sneaked into Brina’s cottage,’ Edana whispered in his ear. ‘Safe journey,’ she said as she stepped away. ‘And I think Craf should come with you. He will be an excellent way for us to keep in touch.’

  They both looked at the old crow, who was perched upon Camlin’s shoulder. If it was possible for a crow to roll its eyes then Craf did it.

  ‘You have to keep a firm hand with that crow,’ Camlin said as Craf fluttered over to perch by Cywen, ‘or he’ll take advantage.’

  ‘I know,’ Corban replied. ‘And rest assured, I won’t be carrying him on my arm around the Banished Lands.’ He grinned at Camlin, who swore back at him.

  And then Corban was climbing into Shield’s saddle, lifting his fist into the air and leading his followers out of Drassil. There was a clatter of hooves and crunch of iron wheels as the wains rolled, through the gate tunnel and then right, skirting the plain of Drassil, up the slope and towards Jael’s road. Corban stopped at the crest of the slope and looked back, Coralen reining in beside him, Storm, Buddai and their cubs lurking in the shadows of Forn. Sig of the Jotun on her lumbering bear led the convoy. Corban had asked Ethlinn for the loan of her to become a weaponsmaster at his new school, so that all the peoples of the Bright Star’s warband would be represented in this new endeavour. Sig seemed happy enough to be joining them, claiming she was looking forward to giving out bruises on a daily basis.

  Corban didn’t think she was joking.

  As the convoy rode past him, Akar and his Jehar, the remnants of Hild’s people, Teca the huntress and Javed’s Freedmen, some riders filed out of the convoy and reined in beside him: Farrell, Dath and Kulla, then Cywen.

  They sat their horses in a line and looked back at Drassil. A handful of win
ged figures rose into the sky, their flight straight towards Corban full of grace and power, a beat of the wings, then gliding. Within heartbeats the Ben-Elim were alighting in front of Corban, the wind of their landing sending leaves swirling. There were five of them, led by one called Israfil, who was the Ben-Elim’s new high captain.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Israfil asked Corban.

  ‘Leaving,’ Corban said.

  ‘But, you can’t,’ Israfil frowned, the expression strange upon his impassive face.

  ‘I think I can,’ Corban said. ‘Why would you say that I cannot?’

  ‘Because you fight for us, from Drassil. You will lead a warband to flush the Kadoshim out from their holes.’

  ‘Meical told me that you are here to protect, not to command,’ Corban said. ‘That is why you came to the Banished Lands, why you schemed to become flesh. So that you could protect Elyon’s creation. Us.’

  Israfil and the other Ben-Elim regarded Corban with their usual emotionless faces; Corban was unable to tell if his words had any effect.

  ‘That is right,’ Israfil said. ‘And Elyon created you free, so you may do as you please, but it would be best, for the greater good, if you remained in Drassil and fought from here. Together our success would be more thorough, the Kadoshim routed out the quicker.’

  Farrell sighed. ‘I don’t think they’re understanding you, Corban.’

  ‘Then let me make it clearer,’ Corban said. ‘I am your puppet no longer. You hunt the Kadoshim your way, and I shall hunt them my way.’

  Israfil’s face twitched, glancing at the other Ben-Elim, and then he shrugged, a dismissal. He bunched his wings and burst into the air, spiralling upwards. The other Ben-Elim regarded Corban a few moments longer and then followed Israfil. Corban and his friends watched them fly back to the fortress as wains and riders filed past them into Forn. Corban was about to turn Shield and follow the convoy when he saw a lone rider galloping hard from Drassil’s gates towards them.

  Corban and the others waited.

  It was Veradis, dressed in simple travelling leathers, though Corban saw his war gear harnessed to his saddle.