Valour

A roar went up from Geraint’s warband, rising up from the front and rippling back through its masses, like the muscular contractions of a snake in motion. The front ranks moved quicker, breaking away, running at Eremon’s warband.

 

They too roared, clashing swords and spears on shields, then charged to meet their foe.

 

Veradis saw the impact of the front rows before he heard it, then there was a great crash, like thunder overhead, ringing along the ravine, echoing about the hills. The two warbands filtered into one another, a patch work of the green of Domhain and the black and gold of Cambren. The battle descended into a thousand duels, each warrior finding a foe to fight, the one left standing moving on to the next. And so it would go, until all the enemy were dead, or one side lost heart and ran.

 

Bos drew in a deep breath. ‘It’s going to be a long day.’

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

 

 

CORBAN

 

 

Corban walked through the huge paddock that spread across the meadows behind the camp, then he saw her.

 

‘Morning,’ Coralen said as he approached.

 

They had only had a few hours’ sleep since their return to camp after the raid, but Coralen looked fresh and alert, ready for anything. She was checking the girth on a horse, other riders nearby preparing their mounts.

 

‘What are you doing?’ Corban asked.

 

‘Rath’s sending me into the mountains. In case they try and sneak around our flanks.’

 

‘Should be a quiet day for you, then. Don’t think any of them will dare step into those woods. Not after last night. They might get eaten by a shape-shifter.’

 

She flashed him a smile at that, a rare sight from her. It scattered his thoughts for a moment.

 

‘I wanted to talk to you,’ he said.

 

‘That’s what I was thinking.’ She looked at him appraisingly, one eyebrow raised.

 

‘About Conall.’

 

‘Oh.’

 

Corban didn’t know what Halion had told her, but he didn’t think it was much. After last night, the way he had seen her risk her life, he felt she deserved to know.

 

‘He killed my sister, Cywen. And he betrayed Brenin, sided with the man who opened the gates to Owain and let the enemy into Dun Carreg.’ There, I’ve said it, plain as I can. He tried to keep the anger from his voice, just tell the facts, without his own feelings creeping into it.

 

Emotions swept Coralen’s face, one chasing the other: anger, disbelief, disappointment.

 

‘Con did that? He’s a lot of things, but – betrayal? He’s always had his own code.’

 

Corban took a deep breath, keeping the anger at bay. ‘Something happened to him. He grew jealous of Halion, who rose in Brenin’s service – Halion was Brenin’s first-sword for a while.’

 

‘Was he now?’ Coralen said.

 

‘Did he not tell you?’

 

‘He’s not told anyone that,’ Coralen said.

 

‘That’s the kind of man Halion is. Humble.’

 

Coralen nodded. ‘I know. And Con didn’t like it?’

 

‘Not at all. I thought him siding with Evnis was as much to spite Halion as anything else. Just my opinion.’

 

They stood there in silence, Coralen fiddling with a buckle and strap in her mount’s girth. After a while she looked up at him, her eyes narrowing.

 

‘What are you waiting for? Are you wanting a kiss now? I’m not Maeve, you know.’

 

‘What?’ For a moment he was back in the feast-hall, Maeve’s arms about him, his face stinging from Coralen’s slap. She’s just jealous, Maeve had said to him. Somehow he didn’t believe that.

 

‘Maeve said you were jealous,’ he said, thinking Coralen would find that funny. She didn’t. She’s going to kill me, he thought and took a step back.

 

‘Jealous!’ Coralen spat the word.

 

‘She kissed me,’ he mumbled, some kind of defence. ‘Just thought you should know about Conall, that’s all.’ A kiss? He found himself looking at her lips, then remembered the long list of cuts and bruises she’d given him in the weapons court. He shook his head. What’s wrong with me?

 

‘All right then. Thank you,’ Coralen said. He nodded and walked away.

 

‘Corban,’ she called after him. He paused and looked back.

 

‘I’m sorry about your sister.’

 

‘So am I,’ he said and left.

 

Corban wanted to cover his eyes. It was horrible. Just the noise of it was deafening. He had witnessed a battle of a similar scale once before, between Owain’s warband and men of Ardan come to relieve the siege at Dun Carreg. But he had been sitting high above on the walls over Stonegate, with the battle fought on the plains far below, where warriors had looked as small as ants.

 

This was different.

 

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