‘So the Black Sun is in Domhain. Possibly camped with Eremon’s army on the other side of those mountains.’ Nathair drank from a cup. ‘It seems almost unbelievable. I have chased this Black Sun in my dreams and in my waking imaginings for so long. I am torn. I was to leave soon for Murias. I must find the cauldron. My dreams . . .’ He trailed off. ‘Elyon commands me. I cannot fail him. And yet the Black Sun – if we could defeat him here – kill him. The danger would be over, surely.’ He looked to Calidus. ‘What should I do?’
‘A dilemma, indeed,’ Calidus said. He was silent a while, his expression pensive, unsure. Eventually he sighed. ‘My advice is that you should go to Murias. We need the cauldron. Elyon has come to you in your dreams, I know this. And he has not asked you to defeat the Black Sun. No, he has asked you to get the cauldron.’
‘But why, Calidus?’ Nathair shook his head. ‘I don’t understand. Defeating the Black Sun is the goal. That is my task.’
‘Yes, ultimately. I do not know Elyon’s mind, but I know that the cauldron is a weapon. Perhaps it is impossible to defeat Asroth and his Black Sun without it. Maybe that is why finding it is so important in Elyon’s plans.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But I do know that Elyon has asked you to find the cauldron and claim it. So that is what you should do.’
‘To be so close to my enemy,’ Nathair growled, anger sweeping his face, ‘only to walk away from him.’
‘You were closer still in Dun Carreg, and watched him walk away,’ Calidus said quietly.
Veradis shifted uncomfortably. He is Ben-Elim, but still, to rebuke my King. He felt his own anger stirring.
‘I have punished myself a thousand times for that,’ Nathair snapped, slamming his cup on the table.
‘Asroth is the enemy,’ Calidus said calmly, ignoring Nathair’s flash of temper. ‘To defeat him and thwart his plans we must have the cauldron. We must focus on that. Of course, if your faithful first-sword has an opportunity to kill this Corban over the coming days, well then . . .’ He smiled at Veradis.
Nathair drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. ‘All right. You are my counsellor, so I should listen when you give counsel.’ He smiled, the anger of moments before evaporating. ‘And you are well suited for advising on this subject.’
Yes, he is, thought Veradis. If one of Elyon’s Ben-Elim cannot advise on this, then no one can.
‘Indeed,’ said Calidus. He grinned. ‘Commit yourself to your task, Nathair. Focus on that. It will be difficult enough. The Benothi giants will not just hand the cauldron over to you.’
‘Well then, Veradis,’ Nathair said. ‘I shall leave you this task. Help Rhin to destroy Eremon, this King that would harbour my enemy.’
‘I will do all that I can,’ Veradis said. ‘But I would rather be travelling north with you. I am your first-sword; I would keep you safe.’ He traced the scar on his palm where he and Nathair had sworn a blood-oath. It seemed a very long time ago.
Nathair saw the movement, turned his own palm over to look at his scar. ‘We are brothers, you and I. That is why I want you to stay. Rhin must be watched – I do not trust her. I would like her to see what your shield wall can do. It may temper her ambitions.’
‘I will do as you ask, then join you when it is done.’
‘Good. And in doing so, hunt down this Corban. Perhaps he is the Black Sun, perhaps he is not. But if you have the opportunity, kill him. Just in case.’ He smiled at Veradis and raised his drink.
They all touched cups, Veradis trying to smile back at Nathair. All he could think of was Cywen’s face, her tear-stained, dirty, grimy face, framed with black curls. Nathair had just ordered him to kill her brother. He felt a wave of sympathy for her.
So be it, a voice said in his head.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
CORALEN
Coralen slid and moved, spinning around Corban as he swung his practice sword at her head. He doesn’t hold back any more. She liked that, knew that when she had first challenged him in the weapons court he had not tried his hardest, had held back because she was not a man.
A few falls on his arse had soon served to disabuse him of that notion. And now he sparred against her with the same intensity that she saw in him when he fought against Gar.
Corban’s sword glanced off her shoulder, knocking her off balance.
Focus, you idiot, she scolded herself, but before she was able to she was on her back, staring up at a cold sky, Corban’s sword-tip hovering against her chest.
Did he just use my move against me?
He held out a hand for her, grinning, but she slapped it away and rolled fluidly to her feet. She saw men staring, various expressions of shock and surprise on their faces. It was not often that she was knocked on her backside in the weapons court.
‘Again,’ she said, wiping the smile from his face.