Valour

‘Run! They saw us,’ one snapped.

 

Veradis turned and ran, Alcyon keeping pace with him; the other giants soon drew ahead, their long loping strides eating up the ground. It felt like a longer journey, running back up the hill to the ridge they had recently passed over, the woods silent apart from their heavy breathing, the thud of feet. He heard footsteps behind, voices calling in the woods. As they broke from the woodland onto open ground and sprinted for the ridge Veradis heard men shouting behind him, the whistle of a spear cast high. He ran faster. The spear skittered off a stone a few strides away. He slid over the crest of the ridge and down the other side. They kept running, long after his lungs and legs were begging him to stop, and eventually paused when they were sure their pursuers had given up. They rested a while, then began the journey back to Cambren and Rhin’s warband. Veradis was pleased; he had learned much. Much to share with Nathair.

 

Most importantly, that the Black Sun is probably in Domhain. And there is nowhere further west that he can run to.

 

The camp was a sprawling mess, spreading along the giants’ road and for leagues about it, great clusters of tents and campfires huddled in the rain. The setting sun was just a faint glow beyond the mountains’ rim.

 

At least it is warmer here, though wetter.

 

The journey back through the mountains had been uneventful, just cold. He was glad to be back; he singled out Nathair’s tents and aimed for them. As he reached the outskirts of the camp he changed his course, weaving between tents and ropes until he reached the eagle-guard’s section – a more organized area, he was pleased to note. He passed through it, staying within shadows, not wanting to be seen, until he reached the paddocks. His eyes searched, then he saw her, grooming her horse as she always did around this time. Her brindle hound lay almost invisible at her feet.

 

‘You’re back, then,’ Cywen said as he approached. She smiled to see him.

 

‘Aye.’ He stood there hesitantly, returning her smile. Unsure. Why have I searched her out. ‘He has recovered well,’ he said, moving to stroke the chest of her stallion. He was a beautiful animal, proud and strong. A good warhorse.

 

‘Yes, he has.’ Pride filled Cywen’s voice. ‘Where have you been, then?’

 

‘Scouting. Through the mountains.’

 

‘I didn’t know first-swords and battlechiefs went scouting. They must do things differently in Tenebral.’ She smiled faintly.

 

‘I wanted to see if there was any sign of these wolven packs. I went in search of changelings and shape-shifters.’

 

‘Did you find any?’

 

‘No. Dead wolven. Dead people.’

 

She just looked at him now, eagerly and with some fear, waiting for him to tell her more.

 

‘There was a cairn in the mountains, two bodies in it. Rafe said it was two men named Heb and Anwarth.’ He stared at her in turn now, studying her reaction.

 

Tears filled her eyes, a tremor in her lip.

 

‘You knew them, then?’

 

She nodded, not trusting her voice. He felt the urge to wipe her tears from her face. They traced streaks through the grime on her cheeks.

 

‘I have to go,’ he said instead and walked away.

 

‘Were there any others that Rafe recognized?’ she called after him.

 

He paused, looking back. ‘Your mam and Corban were not amongst them,’ he said, then walked into the darkness.

 

Veradis leaned back in his chair, enjoying the heat from the fire in Nathair’s tent.

 

‘You are sure?’ Nathair asked him again.

 

‘I am sure that there were men from Ardan amongst the dead up there, in the mountains. I am sure that they came from Dun Carreg. Evnis’ lad, Rafe – he didn’t just recognize them. He knew their names. All of them warriors or men loyal to Brenin and his daughter, Edana.’

 

‘I see.’ Nathair looked to Calidus. ‘So Edana is in Domhain, likely under Eremon’s protection.’

 

‘It would seem so,’ Calidus said.

 

‘Which means that this Corban is probably with her. He was definitely not amongst the dead?’

 

‘Not that we saw – there were many dead, and most unrecognizable, just bones and gristle. But Edana’s group appears to have won both battles; at least, enough of them survived the first battle to carry on and then kill a number of wolven and giants. And they buried their dead in a cairn, which would suggest they did better than those they were fighting. Corban’s body was not there.’

 

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