Memories flowed, sharp and vivid. Standing on a bridge, one of the Ben-Elim before him. You have a choice to make.
‘I was standing upon the bridge of swords,’ he breathed. ‘One of the Ben-Elim stood guard upon it.’
‘You have been racked by fever for almost a moon. You have had many dreams,’ Fidele said. ‘Fever dreams.’
‘It was no dream. The Ben-Elim, he gave me a choice. Go forward or go back. I wanted to cross over, to be with my kin, my friends. To find peace.’
‘Why did you come back, then?’ Fidele asked him.
‘Three reasons. Three people. Jael. Lykos. You.’ He paused and looked up into her eyes. ‘Two for vengeance. One for love.’
She stared at him a long, timeless moment, then she leaned forwards and kissed him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
RAFE
Rafe stared across the river at the wall of trees on the opposite bank.
‘The Darkwood,’ Braith said beside him, with something close to real affection in his voice.
And beyond it Ardan. Home.
It had been a long journey, two moons of hard riding on Halion’s trail.
And now they were just a few leagues away. It was a strange feeling after being away so long.
The dogs were down by the bank, worrying at the mud and silt that edged the estuary.
They’d follow Halion’s trail right into the water if they could. Best scent hounds I’ve ever known.
‘He crossed here, then,’ Rafe said. It wasn’t a question. Hoof prints had churned the mud, then led off north. Halion hadn’t ridden the horse, though. His footprints led right up to the water’s edge. And even if they hadn’t been there, Scratcher and Sniffer’s behaviour was enough for Rafe.
‘Aye,’ Braith said.
‘Why did he turn his horse free?’ Still got a long way to go once he gets to the other side, if Rhin was right. Better to swim his horse across.
‘He must know the Darkwood. Too dense and overgrown to take a horse through. Nearer to the giantsway it’s easier going, more open. But not here. He could’ve crossed further upriver, but every step takes you closer to Uthandun, and that’s one place he’d want to stay clear of. They’ll have patrols out. He made a decision, chose caution over speed. Besides, he can always steal another horse once he’s in Ardan.’ Braith shrugged. ‘It’s what I’d have done.’
I thought my da was a good huntsman, but Braith, he lives it.
Rafe looked dolefully at the river. It was wide and slow, only a league or so before it spilt into the sea. ‘We’re going to get wet, then.’
‘Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,’ Braith said with a grin. ‘Follow me.’
They rode only a short way east along the riverbank before Braith dismounted and made his way down to the river. He disappeared where the bank was eroded into an overhang.
‘Come lend a hand,’ Braith called.
Rafe found him tugging at what looked at first glance to be the broken branch of a willow. It turned out to be a cleverly made screen that was draped over a dozen coracles.
‘Used these to cross the river, back when I was a brigand in the Darkwood,’ Braith said with a grin to Rafe’s questioning look. ‘Best get the horses stripped down and turn them loose.’
Soon Rafe was paddling across the river, and it wasn’t long before he was wading onto the far bank, the muscles in his shoulders and back feeling as if they’d been filled with lead. Sniffer splashed ahead of him and gave Braith’s hand a lick; he’d already dragged his coracle into a worn-out overhang. He helped Rafe do the same and then they were up the bank and stepping amongst the first trees of the Darkwood. It took less time for the dogs to find Halion’s scent again than it had taken to cross the river.
‘Good boys,’ Rafe whispered as they slipped into the twilight of the forest.
Rafe pulled a strip of salted pork from his pouch and chewed, the meat tough and stringy.
Looking forward to a fire and some hot food.
They had followed Halion’s trail deep into the Darkwood, eventually making camp beside a stream when the light forced them to stop. The dogs were curled at Rafe’s feet now, though their ears were twitching at every sound from the forest, of which there were many. It was very different from camping out in the open. In the distance something howled.
‘How far ahead of us do you think he is?’ Rafe asked once they were settled.
‘No more than a day. Maybe a little less.’
‘You don’t think he knows we’re following him?’
‘No, lad,’ Braith said. ‘I’ve tracked others and been tracked myself more times than I remember. He doesn’t know we’re here. At first he knew he’d be followed – remember how he flew hard and fast from Dun Taras and headed straight for the border with Cambren. He knew his only hope was speed. After that – in the mountains and then in the woodlands of Cambren – he tried a few tricks that would’ve thrown most huntsmen. Not that I’m bragging,’ he smiled. ‘And he’s taking his time now. Caution, not speed, so as not to be spotted by locals. He’s not worried that there’s anyone on his tail that might catch up with him.’
‘So you think Rhin was right – that he’s heading for Edana?’
‘Aye. He told Rhin that Edana was running for Dun Crin. By the looks of it, that’s where he’s headed.’
‘Why would Halion tell Rhin where Edana’s going. Halion’s not the type to talk, even if he’s losing body parts.’
‘Rhin can be very persuasive. And she has other methods.’ Braith didn’t need to expand on that. Rafe remembered how he had sat in Rhin’s chamber and watched Conall freeing Halion through the flames of a fire. By flayed skin and blood, Rhin said. He shivered at the memory of it.
‘So if Halion told Rhin where Edana is, why do we need to be following Halion?’
‘Because Dun Crin is in a marshland that covers fifty leagues, more or less. You should know that. Could take a while to search a marsh that big, whereas Halion will lead us straight to her.’
‘Does he know where Dun Crin is, then?’
‘No one knows exactly where Dun Crin is,’ Braith replied. ‘Only that it’s somewhere in those marshes. But Halion has as good an idea as anyone. He’ll have discussed it with Edana and Camlin; he’ll have some idea where they’re headed. If anyone can take us straight to Edana, it’s Halion.’
Straight to Edana. Can’t believe she’s survived this long. She never seemed strong enough for times like this. Mind you, she’d changed a bit when I met her back at the battle for Domhain. Lording it over me in her tent, along with Corban and the rest of them. Bet she’s not so high and mighty now.
‘So what do we do then? Kill them all?’ Rafe asked. He didn’t actually like that thought, but he’d come to admire Braith and wanted to show him he wasn’t scared of anything.
‘That’d be a tall order for even you and me.’ Braith grinned. ‘No, we’ll pick up some help along the way. Evnis is sitting on his arse in Dun Carreg – he’ll be glad of something to do.’ He stared straight at Rafe, his smile gone now. ‘Got to do this right – can’t have Edana escaping again. Or Lorcan, Eremon’s whelp. We take their heads to Rhin. If we can’t do that then we’d better build our own cairns. Rhin’s big on rewarding success and punishing failure.’
I bet she is.
‘You’ve known Rhin a long time?’
‘Aye. All my life, it feels like. When I was a bairn my kin were killed in one of Owain’s raids,’ he waved his hand. ‘Rhin found me when she rode out in response. I was curled up on my mam’s dead body, all cried out. Just about ready to die. Anyway, Rhin took me in, gave me a home. All I’ve ever wanted was to repay something of her kindness.’
Kindness? Can’t say that’s the first word that comes to mind when I look at Rhin.
‘And have some revenge against Owain, of course.’
‘Well you’ve had that,’ Rafe said. He had been there, at the battle where Owain was defeated. He’d fought in it, part of Evnis’
retinue.
‘Aye, that I have,’ Braith said. ‘Just one more score left for me to settle.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘Camlin. Bastard nearly killed me on that beach in Domhain.’ He reached up and rubbed his neck. ‘But I can forgive him that, I suppose. This is war, after all, and we’ve chosen our sides. We all know our end may be a sharp blade, don’t we, lad?’
‘Not really thought about it like that.’
‘Well, it’s the truth, no point hiding from it. Camlin, though . . . he betrayed me. We had Queen Alona and Edana all trussed up and were leading them off to Rhin. He stood against me. Next thing I know, those brothers – Halion and Conall – are hurtling out of the shadows with iron in their fists and men of Ardan behind them. And that lad with his wolven.’
‘Corban,’ Rafe said. His lips twisted over the name.
‘Not your favourite person, then?’ Braith asked him.
‘No. His wolven killed my da. Tore his throat out. Did this to me.’ He lifted his shirt sleeve and showed Braith a ragged white scar that stretched almost from wrist to elbow. ‘And Corban put a sword in my leg.’ He shrugged. ‘He’s my score to settle.’
Braith stared at him in the darkness. ‘Think you might want to walk away from that one,’ he said after a while.
‘Why?’
Braith shook his head. ‘Just take my word for it – a bit of advice from one friend to another.’
‘He’s nothing special,’ Rafe spat. ‘I will see him dead.’
Braith gave him a measuring look. ‘I’ve crossed paths with him a few times now,’ he said. ‘Most recently I took him prisoner in the mountains near Dun Vaner.’ He fell silent, eyes distant. ‘Me and my crew almost didn’t make it to Dun Vaner, on account of that white wolven of his and his friends. They chased us to the gates of the fortress. Then they found a way in and killed just about every sword Rhin had. They had some help, granted, but still, storming Rhin’s fortress; took some stones, that did.’
‘You sound as if you admire him. Them,’ Rafe said accusingly.
‘Suppose I do,’ Braith said. ‘Takes a rare person to inspire his friends to try and drag him out of an enemy fortress. Nothing wrong with a bit of respect for your enemies. Won’t stop me from killing them if I get the chance.’
‘That wasn’t the first time you’ve seen Corban, then?’
‘No. First time was in Dun Carreg when, me being the fool I am, I decided to rescue Camlin. Somehow Corban became mixed up in it, with his sister and the wolven – not much bigger than a pup, then.’ He laughed. ‘He had some stones on him, even then. I saw him again – here in the Darkwood; like I said, he was part of the rescue party that came after Queen Alona and Edana. I think him and his wolven are the reason they found us.’ He grimaced at that. ‘You’re best off just walking away from him. He’ll meet a bad end, eventually, but I don’t think it’ll be by your hand.’
Rafe stared sullenly into the fire.
Walk away from my vengeance? Never.
Dun Carreg was a dot on the horizon in the east, the Baglun spread before him. They had followed Halion for another ten-night, three days through the Darkwood, another seven through the moors and valleys of Ardan. They’d stopped at Badun for as long as it took to buy two horses and then set off south, Halion’s trail skirting away from the giantsway and heading south through empty moorland towards the eastern fringes of the Baglun Forest.
‘We’ll have to part ways for a while now, lad,’ Braith said to him.
Rafe reined in his horse, so surprised he nearly lost his balance.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Halion is heading south-east, looping around the outskirts of the Baglun. My guess is that he’s avoiding Dun Carreg and the giantsway so that he can approach the marsh from the east – a much safer route for him.’
‘Aye, that makes sense.’
‘Whatever his reason, when he finds Edana, you, me and two hounds aren’t going to be enough to finish this. Chances are she’ll have more than a few swords around her. Ride to Dun Carreg, tell Evnis to come, personally, with enough warriors to end this. Take Sniffer with you, he’ll find us quickly enough.’
Rafe nodded.
‘Ride hard,’ Braith said, ‘otherwise they’ll go to ground and we’ll have a much harder job, worming them out of the marshes.’
‘I won’t let you down,’ Rafe said to him, leaning in his saddle to grip Braith’s forearm.
‘I have no doubts in you, lad; no, it’s Evnis that I’m worried about.’ He reached inside his cloak and pulled out two things. A silver chain with a stone pendant and a vellum scroll, sealed with red wax. ‘The pendant will get you through the gates and in front of Evnis quickly enough, and the scroll – give that to the old snake – it’s a letter from Rhin. If your words don’t move him this should put a fire up his arse and get him in a saddle.’
Rafe grinned at Braith, put the scroll into a pack strapped to his saddle and then he was off, Sniffer bounding along beside him.
It took over half a day of hard riding to reach the giantsway, memories flooding back to Rafe – hunting countless times with his da in and around the Baglun, his warrior trial and Long Night, the night Dun Carreg fell, marching to battle against Rhin.
And now I’m back. Almost a year to the day that I left on a ship for Cambren.
He reined in and dismounted, quickly unstrapped his kit bag from his saddle. There wasn’t much of worth in there – a coat of mail he’d taken from a dead warrior in Domhain the most valuable thing, and the box from the marsh, of course, not that that was worth anything. He still hadn’t had a chance to open it – he’d tried briefly, wiggling his knife in the lock, but to no avail. Since then he’d been on the road with Braith and something had stopped him from getting the box out in front of the huntsman. He thought about having another go at opening it now, but his excitement at seeing Dun Carreg was mounting, so he took the coat of mail out and quickly put it on. He adjusted his warrior torc, checked his warrior braid and straightened his sword-belt. He didn’t want to look like a bedraggled huntsman when he rode across the bridge and through the arch of Stonegate.
Havan, the fishing village at the base of the hill that Dun Carreg sat upon, appeared as it always had: wood and thatch buildings, smoke rising from the roundhouse at its centre, figures moving about their daily work. As he passed through and began the winding climb up the hill to Dun Carreg he recognized faces, some pausing to stare at him. He ignored them. Halfway up the hill he stopped and looked out over the village and bay, the sea glittering blue and green, fisher-boats dotting the waves. As he gazed out beyond the bay, black sails caught his eye. Lots of them, coming up the coast from the south like a great flock of black-winged birds. They sailed past the bay, disappearing north around the cliffs of the headland. Rafe just sat there and watched, counted at least fifty ships, and remained there staring for a while after they’d disappeared.
They look like the ships we sailed on to reach Cambren.
When he was sure that they weren’t coming back he rode on.
His hooves clattered on the bridge that spanned the chasm between the mainland and Dun Carreg and then he was reining in before Stonegate. He showed the pendant Braith had given him to a handful of guards in the black and gold of Cambren, and soon after was dismounting in the courtyard before Dun Carreg’s feast-hall. A stable-boy came to take his mount and Rafe threw some strips of meat to Sniffer and ordered him to stay, a few moments later finding himself standing in the feast-hall waiting for Evnis. The hall was empty, the fire-pit dark and cold. Rafe’s eyes wandered, saw black scorch-marks scarring timber pillars and supports, testament to the night Dun Carreg had fallen. Rafe’s eyes searched out the spot where his da had died.
A door behind the King’s dais opened and Evnis walked in, followed by a handful of warriors, all in sable cloaks edged with gold.
Evnis looked older than the last time Rafe had seen his lord. He still walked with purpose and energy, but t
here was a stoop to his shoulders that hadn’t been there before, the lines of his face deeper, and silver streaked his dark hair.
‘By Asroth’s stones, if it isn’t Rafe returned to us,’ Evnis said, a grin splitting his face. As he came closer Rafe saw rings of gold and jet on Evnis’ fingers, his warrior torc wound with gold wire.
Rafe blinked. He seems genuinely pleased to see me. Without thinking, Rafe dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
‘Stand,’ Evnis said. ‘We have much to talk about, not least your adventures with Queen Rhin and the conquest of Domhain, but I think there is more to your arrival here than a yearning for home. Am I right?’
‘You are, my lord,’ Rafe said. He fumbled inside a pocket and produced the scroll that Braith had given him.
Evnis broke the seal and read.
Evnis was close enough for Rafe to smell his breath – it was sour, a hint of mead upon it; spidery veins spread across his cheeks, there was something bloated about his face. He had the look of a man who spent too much time in his cups. Rafe’s gaze drifted to the warriors behind Evnis – most he didn’t recognize, but then his eyes fell upon a familiar face – Glyn with his twisted nose, broken by Tull in the sword-ring. He winked at Rafe, and he grinned in return.
Evnis looked up and stared at Rafe; his eyes still held all their wit and cunning.
‘So,’ Evnis said. ‘News indeed. Glyn, muster a hundred swords, we are riding south.’
‘Aye, my lord,’ Glyn said and strode from the room.
Evnis put an arm around Rafe’s shoulder and steered him towards the doors. ‘We shall make ready and you can tell me your news. First, though, if you don’t mind, I have one question to ask of you.’
‘Of course, my lord.’
‘Have you seen my son?’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CYWEN
Cywen sat with Brina against the trunk of a broad oak. It was late in the evening but still light, both sun and moon sharing the sky above; dusk was settling about them.