Edana’s betrothed, now.
He was slim, dark haired, fine featured like his mam, though Corban could see something of Halion about him – perhaps it was his eyes, sea grey like Eremon’s. Lorcan was fifteen summers, not yet sat his Long Night, but he trained in the Rowan Field and looked close enough to ready from what Corban had seen. He had expected there to be some animosity between Halion and Lorcan, but Corban had seen nothing to suggest that. If anything, the boy seemed to admire Halion, or at least his skill in the weapons court. Corban often noticed Lorcan watching Halion when he was sparring, and there was no malice that Corban could read in his face. A host of others walked in with Quinn and Lorcan. One of them pushed a hood back and Corban saw it was the serving-girl from Eremon’s chambers. Maeve. She looked at him and smiled. He’d seen her a few times about Dun Taras, and this was not the first time that she had favoured him with a smile. She walked over.
‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I heard your story – that you told to the King.’
He didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything, just nodded.
‘It’s quite the tale. Special,’ she said, bending lower. She put a hand on his and squeezed it. ‘I think you must be too.’
Corban didn’t know what to say to that either, so he blushed instead. Maeve smiled. She looked along their table and saw Halion.
‘Brother,’ she said to him.
Of course, another sister, thought Corban.
Halion dipped his head in response, then she walked away.
Corban looked up to see Dath with his mouth open, Farrell staring at him.
‘Why are they all smiling at you?’ Dath said.
It was true, Corban had been noticing a lot of attention of late. He put it down to Storm, remembering it was the same in Dun Carreg, at first. But it was different here – in Dun Carreg it had been children following and warriors frowning. There was still a fair share of that here in Dun Taras, but there were also a lot of smiles and waves, mostly from girls.
Corban shrugged at Dath.
‘You’ll need to get yourself a pet wolven,’ Farrell said to Dath.
She’s not a pet, thought Corban.
‘Like that’s going to happen. How about a crow?’ Dath said. ‘Brina – can I borrow Craf for a while?’
‘Ha,’ said Brina, who was sitting a little further along the table. ‘We all know Craf scares you witless.’ It was the largest number of words Corban had heard Brina put together for days, since Heb’s death.
‘He does not,’ Dath said.
Farrell squawked in Dath’s ear and he jumped, then scowled.
‘There’s still hope for us, Dath. Not all of the lasses smile at Corban, anyway,’ Farrell said. ‘Coralen doesn’t.’
‘Now, I am scared of her. I think she actually tried to kill you in the practice court today, Ban,’ Dath said.
Each day after Corban finished his training with Gar, Coralen challenged him to a sparring match. He had stopped losing to her, though the bouts were more often closer to draws than outright victories. She was vicious, and a cheat, with more tricks in her head than Corban thought possible.
‘She’s a fine lass,’ Farrell said. ‘Formidable. I’d like to marry her.’
Dath spat out a mouthful of ale.
‘I think she hates me,’ Corban said. ‘At least she hits me as if she does.’
‘There’s a knife’s edge between love and hate,’ Brina said. Farrell frowned.
What does she mean by that?
‘Like you and Heb, then,’ Dath said. His smile withered the instant the words were in the air.
Brina looked at him, pain radiating from her.
I thought she’d be angry, but she’s not. She’s heartbroken.
Brina stood with a scrape of chair legs and left. Dath spluttered something after her, but she ignored it.
Corban watched her for a few moments, then followed her. Storm crawled out after him, spilling drinks as she rocked the table. Last to follow was Gar.
They made their way through the rain, back to their temporary home on the outskirts of the town, a black shadow winging above them. Brina lit candles and Gar set to sparking flames in the fire-pit. As light flickered into life Corban saw a figure sitting in a chair. He jumped, but it was only Vonn.
‘What are you doing, sitting here in the dark?’ Brina asked him, not too kindly.
‘Nothing. Thinking,’ Vonn said, blinking in the sudden light.
Brina bustled about the fire that Gar had started, hanging a pot of water.
‘I’m making tea. Who wants some?’
Vonn stood. ‘Think I need some air.’ And he left.
‘Better keep an eye on him,’ Brina said.
‘Just what I was thinking,’ said Gar. ‘He is still Evnis’ son.’ He headed out the door after him.
‘I’m here to keep an eye on you,’ Corban said to Brina.
She raised an eyebrow at that.
‘I’ll make the tea,’ Corban said.
‘No. I will.’ Brina collected cups, sprinkling tea leaves into them and squatting by the pot, waiting for the water to boil.