Father Yarvi gave Skara a searching stare. As though he could dig out her intentions with his eyes. Perhaps he could. ‘He will be reluctant to fight so far from home. Gorm even more so.’
‘Then I will speak to Mother Scaer, and see what she can offer for a vote against you.’ Skara waved one hand towards the elf-walls looming over her mother’s howe. ‘There is no stronger fortress anywhere. If we hold it, Bright Yilling will have to come to us. Because of his pride. Because he cannot march past and leave us free behind him. We will fix the High King’s men here, all in one place. We will be the shield on which Grandmother Wexen’s strength will break. You will be free to find your weapons …’ She tried not to let her revulsion show as she glanced towards the bloodied grass where Asborn had fallen. ‘When you return we can crush Bright Yilling’s army in one throw.’
Yarvi considered her. ‘There is wisdom in it, but warriors are rarely interested in wisdom.’
‘Warriors like polished metal and tales of glory and songs in which steel is the answer. I daresay you can sing the two kings one of those. Do you have a fine singing voice, Father Yarvi?’
He raised one brow. ‘As it happens.’
‘I will not abandon the fortress my father died for. I will not abandon the land my grandfather died for.’
‘Then I will fight for it alongside you, my queen.’ Yarvi glanced at Sister Owd. ‘Have you anything to add?’
‘I speak when Queen Skara needs my advice.’ She gave the mildest of smiles. ‘I feel she handled you perfectly well without me.’
Father Yarvi snorted, and strode off between the barrows towards King Uthil’s camp.
‘That is a deep-cunning man,’ murmured Sister Owd, coming to stand beside Skara. ‘A man who could make any course seem wise.’
Skara looked sideways. ‘I need read no omens to sense the “but” coming.’
‘His plan is desperate. He would step onto forbidden ground with this witch Skifr to guide the way.’ Sister Owd let her voice drop softer. ‘He would step into hell with a devil to point out his path, and he would have us follow. If they cannot find these elf-relics? We will be left penned up in Bail’s Point surrounded by ten thousand warriors. If they can?’ A whisper now, and a fearful one. ‘Will we risk another Breaking of the World?’
Skara thought of the burned farms, the burned villages, her grandfather’s hall in ruins. ‘The world is already broken. Without these weapons the High King will win. Grandmother Wexen will win.’ She felt the sickness at the back of her throat, and swallowed it. ‘Bright Yilling will win.’
Sister Owd’s shoulders slumped. ‘I do not envy you your choice, my queen.’ She frowned off after Father Yarvi. ‘But I fear in destroying one monster you may make another.’
Skara took one last look at her father’s howe. ‘I used to think the world had heroes in it. But the world is full of monsters, Sister Owd.’ She turned away from the dead, back towards Bail’s Point. ‘Perhaps the best we can hope for is to have the most terrible of them on our side.’
Lies
Rin never did things by halves. Koll had always loved that about her.
The moment they arrived in Bail’s Point she’d sought out the forge, found a space in the warren of cellars, laid out her tools in orderly rows, and set to work. No shortage of work for a smith at a time like that, she told him.
She’d been down in the hot, coal-smelling darkness ever since, hammering, and sharpening, and riveting. He was starting to worry about her. Even more than he was worried about himself, and that didn’t happen often.
He gently put his hand on hers to still it. ‘No one’ll blame you if you stop.’
She shook him off and carried on polishing. ‘If I stop I’ll have to think. I don’t want to think.’
He reached for her again. ‘I know, but Rin—’
She shook him off again. ‘Stop fussing.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Stop saying sorry.’
‘All right, I’m not sorry.’
She stopped to frown up. ‘Definitely stop joking.’
He risked a grin. ‘I’m sorry.’
She gave the faintest flicker of a smile, then it was gone. He loved making her smile, but he doubted he’d coax another from her today. She propped her fists on the bench, shoulders hunched around her ears, staring down at the scarred wood.
‘I keep thinking of things I want to tell him. I open my mouth to talk. I turn to call him over.’ She bared her teeth as if she was about to cry, but she didn’t. ‘He’s gone. He’s gone and he’s never coming back. Every time I remember it, I can’t believe it.’ She shook her head bitterly. ‘He always had a kind word and a kind deed for everyone. What good did it do him?’
‘It did them good,’ said Koll. ‘They won’t forget it. I won’t forget it.’ Brand had saved his life, and asked one thing of him. That he do right by Rin. ‘I’ve stood where you stand now …’ His cracked voice almost vanished altogether. ‘Losing someone.’