Focus, you idiot, he scolded himself. You saw her slay a giant. She’s fast, and deadly. He stepped back, seeking time to regroup, but she did not allow it, following him, striking high and low. He managed to block it all, though clumsily, then began to fight back. They moved backwards and forwards over the grass, the clack of their blades marking a sporadic beat. Time passed, Corban losing all track, getting lost in the block and strike, his body and brain working faster together, overriding his thoughts, employing the responses that only uncounted hours of practice could instil.
Then he saw an opening, his blade sweeping forward before he’d had time to think about it, his body following, stepping close into her guard. Somehow she turned his blade and they slammed together, blade to blade, chest to chest. He could smell her breath, sweet, a hint of apple on it. He blinked, then somehow her foot was behind his ankle and he was falling, the air knocked from his lungs as he hit the ground. Her blade touched his throat and she smiled.
He frowned, remembering seeing Conall execute an almost identical move on Marrock back in Dun Carreg. ‘You cheated,’ he muttered.
She grabbed his wrist and helped him up. ‘And you’re still dead,’ she grinned.
He blushed as he looked around, saw a crowd watching them, Dath and Farrell amongst them. Gar shook his head, his lips twitching in a brief smile. Halion strode over. Come to rescue me, I hope.
‘Come on,’ Halion said to him. ‘We’ve to meet Queen Edana. Da . . . the King wants to see you.’
‘Me?’ said Corban. ‘Why?’
‘Because he’s been hearing tales about the young warrior that tamed a wolven. He wants to meet you. Come on.’
‘She’s not tame,’ Corban muttered as he left the practice court, shoving his weapon into a wicker basket.
They had been in Dun Taras over a ten-night now. Edana had been back to see Eremon five or six times since her first meeting with him, but there was still no definite answer from the King about his commitment to aiding her cause. Also the King’s wife, Roisin, had been present at the meetings, and according to Halion she was more poisonous than he remembered her.
Storm uncurled herself and fell in by Corban’s side as they left the weapons court and walked through the streets of Dun Taras. It wasn’t so different from Dun Carreg, the streets as wide, paved with huge flagstones, the grey keep looming above everything. The rock was darker here, and there was no sound of the sea, though, no calling of gulls, no salt on the air.
‘Your sister, Coralen, she doesn’t fight fair,’ Corban said, a throbbing in his back reminding him of their sword-crossing.
‘No. She’s good, though.’ Halion grinned at him.
‘She put me on my back easy enough. Reminded me of Conall, though with a sharper tongue.’
Halion looked sad at that. ‘Aye. She spent a lot of time with Conall, growing up. He was always the one she looked up to. She’s not as hard as she pretends, though.’
‘I’d have to disagree. Did you see her kill that giant back in the hills?’
‘I mean on the inside. She’s grown up around men, been around warriors her whole life. Her mam abandoned her when she was young, and Rath took her into his hold, but that is a place for warriors, not bairns.’ Halion shrugged. ‘That’s all she’s ever known.’
Hard on the outside, soft on the inside. A list of her cutting comments came to mind. I’m not seeing it.
‘Where’s Edana?’ Corban asked Halion.
‘She’s already with the King – and it’s Queen Edana, remember. If her own people can’t give her due respect, neither will the folk of Domhain.’
‘Sorry,’ Corban mumbled. It was not that he didn’t respect Edana as his queen; of course he did; it was just that she was his friend, too. He understood Halion’s logic, though.
‘A word of warning, Corban. Be wary of Roisin. She is proud, cunning, jealous. Her son Lorcan is heir to the throne, and protecting his claim is her one ambition. Think before every word that you say to her. Also, because my father is old, do not think his wits have deserted him. He has a sharp mind when he is not distracted, and he still likes looking at the women.’
‘He is still the same, then, as you remember him?’
‘Much the same, though diminished. More cautious. This meeting with you could help – my da is a complicated man, part of him a thinker, part of him spontaneous, wild in his youth, I am told. He can be ruled by his heart, as with Roisin. He likes Edana, I can tell, partly because she is young and female, true, but he likes her spirit, I think. She is no longer the meek sheltered child that she was. And you and your wolven – there is a magic in your story, our story, the escape from Dun Carreg and through Cambren to here. It appeals to my father. That could be helpful in the end. We need his help. And if we are right, Rhin will probably be turning her covetous glance this way soon enough.’
‘It doesn’t sound very safe here for Edana,’ Corban said.
‘No. But where is safer? Ardan, where she would have been hunted by Owain, or Cambren, where Rhin rules? I trust Da where Edana is concerned. He knew Brenin and respected him. I am sure he will treat Edana well.’
‘Would this Roisin do anything to Edana?’
‘I’ll not let her,’ Halion said. ‘I swore an oath, to Brenin and Edana. I could not save Brenin, but I’ll die before I see any harm come to his daughter.’